


Red Threads of Fate

by Phantom_Queen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Violence, Complicated People, Complicated Relationships, Coping, Dark, Death, Emotions, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fate, Female Harry Potter, Friendship, Healing, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Torture, Love, M/M, Magic, Master of Death Harry Potter, Multi, Mythology - Freeform, OT3, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-HYDRA Reveal, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Protectiveness, Red String of Fate, Romantic Soulmates, Self-Discovery, Slightly skewered timeline, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stubborn Characters, The Deathly Hallows, Torture, Undercover, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence, balance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2020-09-06 21:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 148,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20298055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom_Queen/pseuds/Phantom_Queen
Summary: It was supposed to be an easy job.Infiltrate. Investigate.In and out.Except nothing was ever that easy for her.Holly Potter wasn't exactly looking for trouble when she took the job at the Avengers Tower, at least not the kind of trouble that found her.Fates wheel was spinning, the strings were weaving and Holly was dancing to the beat of war drums.Holly didn't go looking for trouble...but trouble certainly found her.Dark Lords she can handle.Aliens, superheroes, spies, a destiny she does not want, and things she would rather forget about - not so much.But it's there that she learns the most valuable lesson of all.Some people enter our lives and leave almost instantly. Others stay and forge such an impression on our hearts and souls that we are forever changed.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:- I don't own anything I am just playing in respective sandboxes. 
> 
> Warnings:- Dark story, violent, horror and other scary things. Explicit scenes all in the name of plot. Future chapters will contain any warnings as and when they are needed. But as much as there is dark, there will be light good stuff because everything is about balance. 
> 
> XX
> 
> Firstly I blame the mid-credits Thanos scene in the first Avengers film - ' the Other complains that the Earth's inhabitants are not as weak as they were supposed to be and declares that challenging the Earth's heroes would be to court Death.' 
> 
> My brain took that scene and said - what if Harry Potter - Master of Death element, because I loved that concept and really wish it had been explored more in the books and you add them together. What if? - not to mention it tied a little more with the comics and the whole Thanos and Death literal courting of Death.
> 
> It then took my weakness in the Harry Potter world - yet another what if - a female Harry - I know a concept that not everyone likes. I have nothing against male Harry - other than the fact reading the books as an adult you can't believe some of the crap he let slide - not to mention I like the female characters in the Harry Potter world but I have always been fascinated with the idea of just how much would have changed if a) Harry had been born a girl b) the prophecy had still been about them c) Voldemort still saw them as a threat. 
> 
> It then started growing. At first I was firmly in - yeah it's not going to work, but it wouldn't leave me alone. My female Harry - kept popping up in scenes with the Avengers when I was trying to focus on something else and I thought what the hell - go with it and let it run its course and suddenly my plot and world started growing. I've worked out some of the kinks and potential problems in making the two worlds work together. 
> 
> Secondly this story is going to contain soulmarks and soulmates, partly because they are my weakness, and partly because I find them as much as a I love them, a really complicated complex idea that in the real world would be rather unnerving and I want to explore that in so much detail.
> 
> This won't be a love at first sight, falling straight into bed story they have met their match and everything will be okay. 
> 
> There is plot and people, stubborn emotions and everything that makes us human is going to get in the way of everything as plot unfolds. 
> 
> I hope you are able to enjoy the story and bear with me on this journey. 
> 
> Please note that all mistakes are mine and mine alone and I am learning to improve my skill every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made some minor changes to this chapter, just to enable it to flow a little better.

**Prologue:- **

Her skin prickled and itched. 

She scratched at her arms. 

She couldn't reach it. 

No matter how hard she scratched, she couldn't reach it. 

"You're going to make yourself bleed," a soft voice said, breaking the silence. 

She stopped scratching, taking a step closer to the fire and its roaring flames. 

"I'm fine."

It was a lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. 

She wasn't okay, she wasn't sure she would ever be fine again. 

The flames hissed, and wood crackled, and the smell was..._comforting._

She could barely feel the heat. 

She was so fucking cold. 

It had crept inside her, burrowed deep and was rooting. 

Twisting vines of thorns and ice, and darkness and..._Death._

And yet as much as she was cold, she was hot, burning and wild and itching, rippling with power.

**_Don't think about it!_ **

She was so fucking cold. 

How, how could she be cold when it felt like she was about to self-combust at a moments notice?

They were warring inside of her, she could feel it. The energy, the magic. Whirling around like a vortex...hot and cold. Something new and ancient. 

She felt a stranger in her own skin. A stranger in her own soul. 

Something was prowling, in the corner of her mind, huffing and puffing.

It kneaded her mind, claws piercing her soul. 

She winced at the sharp, biting pain. 

Something was wrong with her, so very wrong.

And yet...it felt right. 

A chain around her neck vibrated and warmed and hummed. She could feel the familiar feel of wood in her hands, and she didn't need to look down to know what it was. 

It thrummed through her, to her soul. 

She could feel it vibrating through her, a gentle trickle that seemed to push the cold and darkness back.

Her magic purred, her soul sang. 

_Mine. Mine. Mine. Home. Home. Home._

A haunting melody. 

Yet she found it comforting. She found it gave her strength. 

They always came to her, no matter how far away, no matter how many times she had destroyed them. 

They returned. 

She wasn't sure, but a little part of her whispered _they_ had saved her life. 

And the implications of that terrified her. 

_Don't think about it._

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

She turned from the fire. 

Brown eyes burned into her, a swirl of fear and understanding pressing along her skin. 

Was she leaving?

_Yes. It's the only way._

"It's the only way to stop _them_," she answered.

A fiery determination spreading through her as though she had living Fiendfyre filling her veins.

"When?" 

She could see the pain in her friends' eyes, in both of them as they sat there in silence, watching her. 

She wished, _wished_ she could make it go away. With a wave of her wand and all be well again. 

But that only happened in the fairytales. 

And her life had never been a fairytale.

"Tonight. You've seen the files. You've seen my memories - as disjointed as they are. You know it has to be tonight."

"You don't have to do this alone," blue eyes looked up at her, urging her to see she wasn't alone. 

She wouldn't _trade_ them in the world. They had stood by her so many times, had kept her sane and had saved her life, just as she had saved _theirs._

But when it came down to facing whatever fate threw at her in the end, _she_ had always faced it alone...those final battles, those last moments it had just been her and her enemies because that was all she had ever known. When the dust had settled, when it mattered most, and the earth stood still, _she_ was always the one standing apart from the crowd...Alone, with blood-covered hands and tears in her eyes. 

She had always been different a freak that never fitted in. 

And now..._now_ she was even more so, and she didn't know what to do. 

So she was running. 

Running, throwing herself into the next fight, just as she had after the dust had settled previously, because if she stopped and let everything sink in, then _she_ wasn't sure she would ever be able to crawl out of the darkness that was clawing at her now.

She smiled sadly, "I know, and I need you. I need you both but not on the battlefield. _I_ need to fight this fight on a different playing field."

"What do you want us to do?" her friend asked, her tone brooked no argument. Holly could see the determined tilt in the head, and the crease in the brow that she had learnt long ago meant not to stand in the way of the woman sitting before her. 

"I want you to start preparing. Start getting others ready. Find out what you can, _you_ work the Ministry. I work the ground. And hopefully, between the three of us, _we_ can see a pattern. We can track them and end them before any more lives are lost."

A snort drew her eyes, "You mean before the shit storm hits."

His statement was followed by a slap on the head, and hissed words, "Ow! Bloody hell woman!"

Even now, years later they hadn't changed. 

Holly doubted they ever would, and she wanted to relish in those cherished memories.

There was hesitation in the voice, uncertainty, "Where are you going to go?"

She didn't know. And that was probably for the best, for the time being. 

"I don't know," she answered.

"Promise me you will stay safe."

"I will do my best. I will keep in touch."

She looked at them. 

Memorising their faces, every detail. 

She wasn't sure when she would next see them, and that hurt. A lot. 

It made her hesitate. 

She couldn't afford to hesitate. 

She couldn't afford to be weak. 

She was goblin forged steel. 

She was magic. 

She was small but mighty.

A curt nod of her head was all the indication she gave before she apparated out of their house, and into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Revolutionary_Queen who inspired me to be brave and post my own story.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every one who has read, commented, added to bookmarks, subscriptions and kudos my first chapter.  
I am overwhelmed by the response to this story. 
> 
> I hope you continue to enjoy.
> 
> 'nervously posts the next chapter.'
> 
> All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 1**:-

The wind was chill and Holly buried her nose in her jacket as she walked across the crossing stopping on the opposite side of the road in front of a large towering building. 

A simple warming charm would have rectified the problem, but the last thing she wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to herself. 

Goosebumps prickled her arms, though Holly was certain it was more for nerves than the cold air that was breezing around her. 

Her mouth was dry, and her heart was beating as fast as Billywig's wings rotated. 

This. 

This was absolutely her worst idea to date, and that included when she decided to jump on a Trolls back when she was eleven, and breaking into Gringotts at seventeen and the countless other ideas she had over the years. 

Holly glanced up at the tall building in front of her, feeling incredibly small. For a single moment, she couldn't will her legs to move, to take that all-important step forward. 

She was nervous. 

More than nervous.

She absolutely could not do this. 

It was going to blow up in her face, in true Potter style. 

Yet she couldn't pull her gaze away. 

The Avengers Tower was hardly one of the seven wonders of the world, or even architecturally pleasing to her eye, though Holly was sure some would disagree, though she could admit that the building was impressive. 

An imposing giant that stood out amongst a sea of giants. Styled with all glass and modern chic vibe, it glistened in the sun, like a beacon for a better tomorrow.

Holly had no doubt that had been the intention of the design all along, even before the pale blue A had been firmly fixed into place signalling to New York and the rest of the world that the Avengers were here, present, watchful and guarding.

A beacon of hope in a bleak turmoil world. 

But it was because of that turmoil that Holly found herself standing outside the Avengers Tower.

That didn't stop the uncertainty creep along her spine. Holly couldn't help but feel as if the tower was glaring at her as if it _knew_ she was here under false pretences.

Well, technically she wasn't. She was here for a job interview, and _she_ did want the job. 

Holly just wasn't listing the many reasons _why_ she wanted the job. 

Not that she could worry about that too much. 

No, right now she just needed to convince her legs to work and walk into the building. 

That would be her first step. 

She would worry about everything else once she had done that. 

She just needed to move. 

_Five seconds._

Holly would give herself five seconds. 

She would allow five seconds before she pushed herself forward and step into the building. 

Holly closed her eyes and breathed.

_One._

It's just like every other job she had been on. It was just another mission. She could do this.

_Two._

She had nine years as an Auror under her belt. Seven years of fighting a war that had started long before she was born. 

_Three._

She had survived Voldemort. She had hunted down his Death Eaters.

_Four._

She was Holly _fucking_ Potter, and it wasn't in her nature to back down. Not when others depended on her.

_Five._

She had survived so much, she had survived _death._ Walking into a building that housed Earth's Mightiest Heroes should be a walk in the park.

Holly opened her eyes, pulled her Occlumency shields tightly around her, just in case any of them _had the powers of mind-reading,_ and schooled her face until she was wearing the Auror mask she had perfected over the years. 

She ignored her stomach hardening, ignored her magic seeming to uncoil and test and taste the air. 

Even ignored what felt like an itch in the back of her head, a clawing sort of nudge that seemed to be driving her forward in a way Holly didn't understand. 

There were days Holly felt as if she was a stranger in her own skin, or that she shared her body with _something_ that hungered for things she couldn't quite put a name to.

Shaking her head softly, while muttering to herself, Holly moved towards the swirling front doors as people moved in and out of the building and joined those pushing their way into the building. 

Warm air washed over her, a welcome relief from the coldness outside, without being swelteringly over the top. 

While the outside outer shell of the building hadn't been welcoming, Holly couldn't say the same about inside.

All sleek-lines and marble floor that shimmered in the rays of the low winter sun. Holly's eyes swept over the lobby as she walked towards the main reception desk, making a mental note of the security team dotted around, nine in total. Holly wasn't sure if that was overkill or if they were precautious, but considering whom the tower housed, precautious was what she was hedging her bets on. 

Especially considering who their enemies were. 

Each of them armed and positioned strategically. The advantage would be with the home front before the bad guys even stepped through the lobby.

Holly knew how and where she would attack from, and with her using magic they wouldn't see her coming, she would be able to take them. 

Not that she had any intention of crossing paths with them. 

Holly was here to observe, gather the information that _she_ needed and then leave. 

In and out. 

No complications. 

Even if it took weeks or months, she had allowed for that. She couldn't risk rushing this and letting the opportunity slip through her fingers. 

She needed whatever information the Avengers had on Hydra before she could even contemplate her next move.

But first, Holly needed to get the job.

Failure was an unacceptable outcome. 

She had come too far to fail now. 

How was it the saying went _'Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.'_

Holly was more than prepared to move or raise hell to achieve her goals.

Especially if it meant lives were saved. 

Holly walked across the lobby with a confident purpose she had perfected over the years. The lone shy girl in the cupboard buried long ago. She had her mask firmly fixed in place, moving like she belonged in a sea of muggle business-minded individuals and professionals. 

Holly _may_ have been more comfortable in dragon hide Auror approved combat boots any day of the week that allowed her to kick ass; run, fight and still made her legs look good.

But that didn't mean she didn't know _how_ to look the part of an aristocrat heiress. She hated the scene, but Andromeda had taught her well, taught her how to highlight her best features, how to disarm with a smile and words, just as easily as she could with a wand. Holly knew how to manoeuvre the political waters, knew how to dance not just on the battlefield but also in the galas and the social circles of the elites. 

It was those skill sets that had allowed her to be good at undercover work. The masks she wore gave her a layer of protection from the prying eyes of the Wizarding World who only ever wanted pieces, and never the whole package that made her who she was.

Holly pulled up every ounce of training she had received as she crossed that lobby. 

Her four-inch heels clicking on the marble floor matched her black skirt and jacket. The crimson red blouse and equally dark red painted lips, the only splash of colour she had allowed, stood out against her pale skin, made her look like an entirely different person.

As if she had donned armour. 

Holly had even spent the extra few minutes and more hair charms than she liked using to style her hair so lose curls fell over one shoulder. Discreetly hiding her left side of her neck. 

Armour and her masks, keeping the real her tucked away safe.

She smoothed down an imaginary wrinkle in her skirt and smiled her warmest smile as she reached the reception desk, ignoring the knotting ropes in her stomach and the itch of her right hand to reach for her wand.

She was just a muggle. Just a muggle. Don't use magic unless she had no other choice. 

The receptionist had short dark brown hair, a cheeky smile and a dimple on his chin. He looked entirely too _young_ or instead just fresh-faced enough that he gave the appearance of youth.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" His teeth were too white, almost blinding white, and from the way he smiled Holly was sure it was a new thing, and he intended to show them off whenever he could. 

"I have an interview with Maria Hill," Holly replied, her own smile not nearly as full as, her eyes glanced at his name tag, 'Simon's'. 

"Name please?"

Holly's hand twitched slightly before answering, "Holly Potter."

She had thought long and hard about what name she would use, and while she had a few 'fake identities' that she had used over the years in the muggle world, there was only one that would hold up to the level of scrutiny that she had no doubt her application would receive. 

And even though she was confident that Kingsley had done an excellent job in ensuring her records were the best they could be to withstand any government inspection, any questions thrown her way, the knots tightened together, and her stomach turned. Her right hand felt the familiar feel of her wand in her palm before she quickly shoved it back into place in the wand holster. 

Holly kept the smile in place and her emotions firmly in check as Simon typed away at a keyboard that looked so thin and flimsy Holly wasn't entirely sure it was really there or whether it was an image of one in some way. 

Holly knew only seconds ticked by, but it felt like a lifetime had passed the moment she had given her name and for Simon to check the computer for whatever the hell he was checking for. It was only as he looked up at her and smiled a little wider, that she let out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding and relaxed her shoulders ever so slightly.

Holly smiled at him, as he passed her an ID card that seemed to have her picture printed onto the front. 

What the actual fuck?

Holly swallowed the question and asked instead about other potential candidates.

"Have there been many candidates?"

"Only five, including yourself. Ms Hill will be meeting you on the 80th floor. Use the fourth elevator on the right; it's the only one that goes up that far. Just press your ID card to the sensor, and it will open for you." 

"Thank you."

"Good luck in your interview, and have a pleasant day ma'am."

Holly nodded in acknowledgement, before making her way towards the elevators, she was pretty confident that was the American term for lifts, behind the reception desk and to the one that would take her up to the upper levels. 

Two more security guards stood at the far wall, watching all who entered and exited them. They eyed her up cursorily as she made her way to the one closest to them. 

Holly forced herself to ignore them, not disrespectfully; she acknowledged them as any regular muggle would brief eye contact before going about her business, even though it set her teeth on edge to give her back to armed individuals.

Breathe. 

_Just breathe. _

The elevator doors opened with a soft hiss, once she pressed her ID card to the sensor, and she stepped inside, letting out another breath of relief as nobody followed her.

Holly hated lifts. 

Hated the confined space.

Even magical ones that expanded at will.

Despite the space being big enough to fit, eighteen people or at least the sign indicated eighteen Holly didn't believe it for a second, she could feel her heart beating that little bit faster, her palms clamming together.

Holly took off the suit jacket, hoping that one less layer would at least provide the illusion of freedom. 

It didn't help. 

She ran a hand through her hair. 

Just breathe. 

In through your nose. 

Out through your mouth. 

The last thing she needed was to turn up to her interview looking like a pooling mess. 

But the elevator was...

Too much. 

It felt too confining. 

Too much like...

**Don't think about it!**

Her magic snapped, baring its teeth, the lights flickered and the elevator...groaned, caught and jerked. 

Holly froze. 

Oh, come on, this was _not_ how she was going to die, because she couldn't keep her emotions in check, because she was an _emotional child_ who didn't know the difference between control and lack of control. 

And didn't that _sound_ entirely too much like Snape for comfort.

Holly breathed and shoved everything down.

She closed her eyes and recited the only thing she knew that calmed her, spells rolled through her mind.

Perhaps it said something about her, that violence was the only comforting thing in her life. But it was familiar; it was a part of who she was, how she had been raised. 

She didn't know how to be soft or gentle.

But she did know how to bring down opponents with a flick of her wand. 

_Ebubilo Jinx -_ traps a target in a giant bubble. 

_Orbis Jinx -_ sucked the target into the ground. 

_Pounding Hex -_

"My apologies, Ms Potter, there appears to be a minor technical glitch that temporarily disrupted the elevator. It has now been fixed," a British male voice broke the silence in the elevator. 

"Huh." Holly opened one eye and glanced around, "Umm, I'm sorry, it's fine but...yeah, who are you?"

"Forgive me, Ms Potter; I am JARVIS, the artificial intelligence that runs the Tower." 

Holly opened her other eye and frowned. 

Artificial intelligence? Sentient? 

Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can't see where it keeps its brain. Tom Riddle's Diary had been Sentient and it had taught her that lesson well. 

"You're not going to try and kill me are you?" she asked because really she had nothing to lose in asking...other than the fact it wasn't a question that most people would ask.

There was a pause, and Holly looked up at the security camera waiting patiently for Jarvis to answer, "No, Ms Potter."

He sounded somewhat amused. Guess Artificial intelligence could do amusement, now wasn't that fascinating. 

Holly smiled slightly, "That's good. It's not Wednesday, people are only allowed to try and kill me on Wednesdays."

"I see, Ms Potter, and how would they try to kill you, if it was in fact Wednesday?"

The amusement was there. 

"I have to say death by elevator would be a new one and not the way I would want to go. But speaking of the most recent transaction, it would have been death by car," Holly paused, rambling because she needed the distraction more than anything else, "I think it is a written universal law. Wednesdays are kill Potter Day, right alongside Tequila Tuesdays and Thirsty Thursdays."

Holly smiled; she could imagine trying to introduce Jarvis to Arthur Weasley, who found the rubber duck incredibly beautiful. 

"I see."

"So, I have to ask what is a fellow Brit doing in a place like this?"

"I have to admit Ms Potter that you are the first British person I have met."

"Well, that's just sacrilege. Well as your first Brit, it is going to have to be my job to educate you in all things British," Holly paused, "or at least for as long as the rest of the elevator ride is if I don't get the job." 

Holly leaned back against the wall of the elevator and folded her arms, jacket hanging loosely over them, "So quick bullet points, tea is god's gift to earth, something that must be treasured above all costs don't let anyone tell you any different. Rugby is one of the best sports in the world and originated in England in the first half of the 19th century. It seriously is an amazing sport, and something we Brits are damn proud of, regardless of whether we are English, Welsh, Scottish or Irish." 

She continued, "We spend an average ten months of our adult lives moaning about the weather, and I don't think we will ever apologise for that fact, and you have to have a certain level of sassy to you."

"I do believe I have a certain level of sassy Ms Potter, and the weather _is_ entirely too cold today," Jarvis answered with more amusement than she had been expecting.

Holly smirked, "I like you, Jarvis. You would fit right in back in Britain." 

"I do endeavour to be well-liked Ms Potter."

"I'm sure you do," Holly chuckled, "I'm sure you do."

The ding of the elevator doors signalled that she had in fact reached her destination, or rather the elevator had, and as they slid open Holly breathed. 

"It has been a pleasure, Jarvis."

"Ms Hill is waiting for you in meeting room 104, and Ms Potter..." he paused, "Good luck."

"Thank you, Jarvis."

Holly stepped out of the elevator, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly the tightly wound coil holding everything in place loosened. 

She was still alert and ready for action, but her muscles were relaxed and more fluid for movement than rigid and fixed into place as it took every ounce of will she had not to slip into the darkest corners of her mind.

Holly couldn't help but wonder whether Jarvis had been monitoring her in the elevator and _had_ seen the signs that signalled something wasn't right. And wasn't that an unnerving thought. 

She was used to being under a watchful gaze, the Wizarding World had watched her every move for years, but Jarvis would be different. It meant that she had one more factor _she_ would need to take into consideration when moving about the building. 

Provided she got the job. 

She really needed to ace this interview. 

She needed to impress without being _too_ impressive. 

Holly walked in the direction of the meeting room that Jarvis had indicated to, knocked once on the door and waited for a somewhat firm voice calling her to enter.

Holly pushed open the door to the meeting room and stepped inside. 

Maria Hill was a striking woman that commanded attention.

She was tall, with calculating eyes that settled on Holly the moment she entered. 

She held herself in a way that told Holly _she_ was used to being in charge and people following her orders. Hill reminded her very much of McGonagall, stern, fair, unforgiving to those that crossed her, and willing to do what needed to be done to keep those under her care safe.

Holly could feel the weight of the woman's gaze pressing down on her skin. Blue eyes weighing, judging as wheels spun around and around. 

Hill was nothing if not professional, and whatever opinions were being formed she wisely kept to herself. 

The woman indicated for her to take the seat. 

Holly sat down, as Hill followed suit, her stomach churning and the spot between her shoulder blades itching ever so slightly, almost as if she was being watched, observed from a distance. 

Holly ensured her mask was firmly in place, that she gave nothing away that _she_ did not want to give away. Shrouding herself in an icy blanket that kept her safe from harm, indifferent and professional. 

In control at all times.

Metaphysical hands pushed the doors to her magic firmly shut, so not a single thing leaked. 

Hill may have been an impressive woman, a worthy opponent, but compared to the evil Holly had faced she wasn't somebody that would ever intimidate her.

Holly glanced around the room; it was minimalistic and had what looked to be a mirror along the length of a wall, it was probably a one-way mirror. 

Holly couldn't help but wonder if someone was observing from the other side. 

"Ms Potter, why do you think you would be good for the job?"

Holly tilted her head ever so slightly, as she thought about the question. Hill wasn't wasting any time; she was cutting right to the point, asking the direct questions and forgetting the warm-up. 

Holly needed to give enough without revealing too much of her skill set, or where she learnt it from. 

It was a tricky game, a play on words. 

But everything depended on her answer.

"I am good with people. My previous role involved me working in highly sensitive matters and required me to keep my head on straight to deal with any potential threats that threatened those under my care."

Holly continued, "I know how to handle myself, and tackle a problem from all angles, even looking outside the box for solutions. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty and get stuck in, in any task, I am required to do."

"Your previous employment, tell me what exactly was your role?" Hill asked.

"I worked for the Evans-Black Foundation. It was my job to ascertain the risks involved in regards to projects, locations of new projects and our extensive involvement within the community. We worked to help vulnerable people in getting a better life, a better future, and that unfortunately involved dealing with the darker accepts of human nature."

_Among other things._

Not that she could say that allowed.

"An example?"

"Without breaching my previous contract NDA, we dealt with those that were exposed to drugs, gangs; human trafficking rings, to name just a few. The Foundation, for the most part, was seen as a good thing; however it did have its fair share of crossings with those less than pleased with our...interference." 

Holly continued, "I still have my contacts across the world with the work I did with the foundation. Some are involved in less than savoury things."

_And some are entirely magical, but that is another thing._

"And your reason for leaving?"

Holly's heart thumped loudly. 

She gave a tight smile. The best lie was a lie filled with half-truths, and this was as close as it was going to get.

"I needed time to heal," Holly answered, not giving an indication exactly when she left. 

As far as the muggle world was concerned, Holly Potter had been working across the globe for the Foundation and had left a year ago, after the incident. 

Not that she had been acting as a ghost and that she had left her home close to just over three years ago. 

"And you chose not to go back?"

"You have my records, you know what happened. I failed."

"Your records clearly indicate that it wasn't your fault, Ms Potter. That the circumstances were stacked against you and that _you_ barely made it out alive."

Another half truth.

Her heart beat a little faster, her palms felt clammy, and she could feel a part of her stirring, raising its head from slumber and looking at Maria Hill with entirely too much curiosity than Holly liked. 

_Threat?_ It purred. 

Holly pushed it down. She couldn't afford to lose control now. 

Couldn't afford to show weakness. 

"Tell me Ms Hill, do you in part blame yourself for the fiasco in DC nine months ago? Even though it wasn't your fault."

Maria Hill looked at her, her gaze hardening, but it was an answer in itself. Maria Hill had her own burden of guilt to live with, and so did _she._

"You've done your research."

"I wouldn't say research, but Shield's fall was made rather public. Not that I hold much stock or faith in the media. They report what they want to report, and twist words easily enough to sway people's judgement," Holly answered, "I have no right to judge Shield, nor do I believe they are the enemies that the world now believes them to be."

"You would be one of the few."

"The world is always looking for a scapegoat, no matter how right or wrong. Of course what _they_ have failed to realise is, just how deep Hydra's reach went. Haven't three Senators been arrested with their connection to the organisation?"

Hill eyed her curiously. As if she had just rearranged her puzzle pieces without telling her and Hill now had to start again in building the picture. 

"Ms Potter, I won't lie you have quite the résumé, and the references alone are glowing enough." 

Hill continued, "I am aware of your medical history, and I am also aware that you have fully healed. While we aren't out fighting every day like the Avengers, it is our job to offer support when it is required. That can, at times, be demanding. We are the support, in all aspects, information, driving, organising safe houses that we at least know about, along with any international feathers we have to smooth should the Avengers be required elsewhere," Hill said, "We shield them from all threats that they cannot or unable to shield themselves from."

"Shield, interesting choice of words, all things considered, Ms Hill," Holly said softly. 

Hill didn't blink, but a glint flickered to life. 

"I'm going, to be frank, Ms Potter; you have the skill set we need. But there are things _I_ need to be certain of first."

"I respect frankness rather than spiralling around the issue," Holly admitted.

"Why do you want the job?"

Holly licked her lips, and looked up at the woman, "I can't stand injustice, and I can't stand bullies. I'm not a hero, I don't like the spotlight, I don't have super strength, and I can't fly in a metal suit. But I know _they_ can't stand alone, and face what they need to face," Holly paused. 

She continued, "We need them. Not to stop bank robbers or crimes that the _police_ are trained to deal with. But the world-changing events or the world-ending, we need people who are willing to use their gifts to help others, and not simply seek more power. So I will help how I can, but you might want to keep me away from the press." 

It wasn't exactly a lie, more like she was skirting around the truth. She may have spent almost a decade fighting Dark Wizards and winning a war, but Holly hadn't done it alone, and she certainly wasn't a hero. But what she was; was an Auror, who had training Hill couldn't even begin to dream about, who couldn't stand the idea of people abusing their power because they could, or because they sought more. 

Hill's lips twitched ever so slightly, but she gave nothing else away to signal Holly's statement amused her. 

"Are you inclined to take things, ask for autographs? Or creepily stare at Earth's mightiest heroes?"

"Can I phone a friend, or go fifty-fifty?" Holly replied without missing a beat, but from the look, Hill sent her way, she wasn't sure her attempt at a joke was appreciated, "No, to all three."

Hill smiled slightly, "You might just survive here. Potter, I am hiring you on a trial basis. We will see just how much of a fit you actually are."

* * *

"Ten."

Steve glanced up at Natasha, her fingers elegantly tapping away on the Stark pad in her hands, as images filled the larger screen in the room that most of them referred to as the War Room.

He felt Bucky tense at his side as his friend crossed his arms and glared at the offending screen with more coldness than was strictly necessary. Sam's eyes darted between the three of them, lingering a fraction longer on Bucky than was required, but his friend held a certain level of caution when dealing with the Soldier. 

His teeth ground together, heat flushed through his body as his blood bubbled and his muscles quivered at the term. 

Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier, except that he was, and nine months of being free from Hydra's grip had not yet softened the razor-sharp edges that his friend radiated with every breath he took, with every move he made.

Predator.

Cold.

Calculating. 

Ruthless.

Killer.

Except he was Bucky, and Bucky was so much more than what Hydra had made him. So much more than the darkness that he shrouded himself with. 

Steve saw it in the briefest of flickers when a memory resurfaced and the man remembered.

Steve heard it in the whimpers, and the cries as the nightmares gripped him and wrapped around him, dragging him through whatever hell he had already lived through. 

It was only upon waking, only upon a metal hand wrapped around _his_ throat that Bucky's eyes glistened with unshed tears and whispered 'Stevie' that Steve knew Bucky was buried deep inside and he was clawing his way to the surface with every breath he took. 

He was getting better. 

But it was taking time. 

Steve just wished that _he_ would let him help in the way that Steve knew he could, that Bucky would allow the connection, the bonds form and solidify like they had once been so long ago. Golden and red threads of light that hummed in sync with their heartbeats were now dimmed and frayed and so very fragile. 

Bucky glanced at him, cold eyes throwing an accusation his way even if he didn't voice it whenever Steve's thoughts turned to the bonds, to the marks, to _them_.

He shut down that trail of thought quickly, locked it up tight and reigned in his own instincts like he was gripping metal chains.

It would take time, he knew that. 

At least he relaxed a little around Natasha, around Sam, even Clint but the others Bucky kept at a distance and Steve wasn't sure how he could force the issue and draw him further into their group, rather than staying on the fringes.

Except now wasn't the time to push the issue, not when Natasha's Intel was so damn important. 

"How sure are you that the Intel is accurate?" he asked, unable to keep the bite from his tone. 

Natasha looked up at him, raised an eyebrow questioningly, and held his gaze for a moment. They had worked together for three and half years, she knew him better than most. He didn't need to voice his concern aloud, and from the way, her eyes darted fleetingly between him and Bucky she had read his message loud and clear.

"Ninety-five per cent accurate. I can be very persuasive, and my mark was very talkative when the right kind of pressure was applied," she answered, with a glint in her eyes, that made him realise he really didn't want to know before the moment passed between them, and her face became carefully blank. 

"Ten Hydra cells in New York, that can't be a coincidence," Sam added. 

"It would be one hell of a coincidence if it was," Steve agreed, as he looked back at the locations they had been given.

"It's not a coincidence," Bucky rumbled, speaking for the first time since they had entered the room, "Hydra doesn't do coincidence. It makes coordinated attacks, plans within plans."

Steve watched as his friend moved closer to the large screen, and pointed to one of the locations, "I remember this particular hideout - it was used as a base for one of my missions in the 70s - can't remember much more...I'm sorry."

"It's enough," Steve cut across firmly, it was more than enough, "You have given us something concrete Bucky, and that's enough. You've confirmed at least one known location; we can have teams on the others for the time being, gather more information, _before_ we make a move."

"Did your informative say exactly what they were doing in New York?" Sam asked, "I mean it's kind of suicidal being this close to Avengers Tower and everything."

"He didn't," Natasha stated, "It could be that they are testing the waters, seeing how good we react, seeing what we do. The Intel could even be a trap or, they could be planning something else."

"We will have to plan for all possible outcomes," Steve agreed, crossing his arms as he looked at the information again, "They are ten-man teams from what the intel is saying, but combined together it's a sizeable problem, especially with their training."

"Do you think its revenge - for outing them?" Sam asked.

"Against us, possibly, but they aren't in the position where the advantage goes to them to make their move right now," Steve replied.

"It's not exactly been kept a secret that I am here," Bucky said, sounding more defeated than Steve ever wanted to hear him. 

"I won't let them have you again," he growled, and fuck it he wouldn't. He would tear anybody apart that tried to take Bucky from him again. 

Bucky met his gaze head-on, his eyes shifting instinctively to that state of being that Steve was never able to achieve. The Winter Soldier was more than just a weapon for Hydra; he was the fucking apex predator that Hydra had kept on a leash.

"I will talk with Hill and Happy in regards to upping the security on the building, raising it to a level four," Natasha said softly, her tone offering calmness when all he could feel was a tightly wound ball of swirling emotions that was steadily getting tighter and tighter and the urge to just punch something became almost unbearable. "Plus Hill has hired extra staff today."

Steve turned to look at Natasha and barely hid the grimace, "How many?"

"All of the five candidates that interviewed today, they passed the background checks, and we are a little thin on the ground. Stark gave her a reasonable size budget," she answered, "The extra help will ease the burden of stakeouts and lookouts."

"Civilians," Bucky snorted.

"Four are former Shield agents; they stood with us at the Triskelion, worked with Hill before and are a little lost since the fall of Shield."

"We all know Shield isn't gone," Steve stated, throwing her a look.

Natasha shrugged, "Maybe they lost their faith a little."

"You mentioned four - the fifth is a civilian?" Sam asked. 

"She wasn't Shield, and nor is she any of _our_ government agencies. She's British, and seems to have enough skill to be able to take care of herself. Plus we can work with them to get their skill set up to a better level," Natasha replied with a shrug, "We need more support, and Hill is trying to get that for us. The security here is great, and the teams are good, but Happy is Stark's man through and through."

"Any of them Hydra?" Steve asked.

"They all came back clear with background checks, though -"

"There is no way to tell for definite," Bucky stated.

"It's a trial period at the moment, it gives us a chance to feel them out," Natasha replied.

"It's smart. Better to see the knife than have the knife in the back," Bucky argued.

"Only you would use that logic!" Sam protested.

"Knock it off you two," Steve warned, forcing the two of them to fall silent as they threw each other glares. There were days he wasn't sure who was worse, Sam or Bucky, both liked to provoke the other. 

"We will deal with it as another day's problems. Right now, we need to focus on Hydra in New York."

"When are we telling the others?" Natasha asked, shifting on her feet. 

"Tomorrow morning, Tony will be back from the West Coast as will Thor, and we need everyone on this, including Maria."

"In the meantime, we need to rest. _You_ need to rest," Natasha declared, "You look exhausted."

"I'm fine."

"Don't make me drug you, Rogers."

He stifled a yawn.

"Maybe you're right."

She snorted in response, "I'm always right."

"We can figure our next move tomorrow, with everyone else. Jarvis, activate Privacy Protocols."

"Of course sir, Privacy Protocols activated, files secured," Jarvis chimed from the ceiling, "May I be so bold to arrange notifications in respect to tomorrow's meeting, Captain Rogers?"

"Please Jarvis, for nine am."

"Of course sir."

Steve watched as Natasha left first, Bucky following without so much as a glance in his direction, Steve could admit it hurt.

He wanted Bucky to talk to him. _He_ needed to make everything better, for it to go back to the way it used to be. Effortless like breathing, they fitted; it had been them against the world. But now, they were shattered pieces, and Steve didn't know how to start putting them back together, and Bucky wasn't letting him in. 

He didn't know how much longer he could stand on the sidelines.

"You need to give him time," Sam said softly, "I know it doesn't sit well with you. I know you have a complicated past, and I know it isn't an ideal situation to be in, I know it is difficult. But his recovery isn't about anyone else. It's about him, and he needs to heal at his own pace."

"I know," Steve sighed wearily, and fuck did he know that. He looked up at Sam, "Am I making it worse?"

"You aren't pushing the issue - which is good. But you look, all wishful and hopeful, and Bucky sees it. He doesn't say anything, but he sees it. I know...I know you are hurting Steve, but it isn't a personal attack on you," Sam paused, watching him closely. 

His jaw clenched tightly as he tried to reign in everything he was feeling. He could feel them bubbling under the surface of his skin, threatening to explode.

He was in control. 

He was in control. 

He couldn't afford to be anything but in control. 

_He_ was Captain America, the one everybody looked to, turned to. 

He couldn't afford to lose control, to fall apart. 

What he felt he could, no he _would_ carry that burden alone.

"His rejection isn't personal. Just be there for him, yes _he_ is Bucky Barnes, your best friend, but see him as a person now. Get to know him now; don't just rely on your past. He doesn't remember who he was, or what was done to him, but it will start coming back to him and Bucky's going to need all the support he can get."

"And he will have it."

"And _you_ need support. I'm always here. Bucky's recovery is about him, but that doesn't mean you have to hurt in silence either. I've got your back man."

Steve gave him a slight smile, "Thanks, but I'm fine. I'm -"

"The man with the plan. Yeah, I've heard that line before," Sam chuckled. 

His smile widened a little, but even then it felt forced. 

"I will leave you to your rest; don't stay up all night, Captain. We need you fighting fit for tomorrow's meeting."

"Yeah, I won't stay up much longer."

Sam nodded, reached for his shoulder and squeezed once before he left the room.

Steve glanced back at the screens, running a hand through his hair, his eyes narrowing as he reread over the information Natasha had gathered. 

Hydra, an enemy that he had thought destroyed over seventy years ago, and had managed to survive, rebuild in the heart of an organisation that had claimed to protect the world. 

The damage Hydra had done in the years it had been with Shield was extensive, unimaginable. 

Events in the cold war.

The Cuban Missile crisis.

The 1979 Iranian Revolution.

The Gulf War.

And so many others. 

Their fingers stirring the pots, rotting the world from the inside out, thriving in the chaos. 

What was their motto, 'cut off one head, two more grow back' how did one kill something that re-grew heads?

How did one destroy an idea?

And wasn't that the question that spun around and around like a wheel.

Another yawn threatened to escape; he had been running on empty fumes for the last nine hours, perhaps _he_ should get some rest. 

Get some sleep, though he wasn't sure it was genuinely restful. 

Too many memories stirring, too many feelings whirling around inside of him looking for an outlet. 

Maybe he would go to the gym first, go a few rounds on the punch bag.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incredibly amazed and wowed by the responses this story is receiving. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, kudos, bookmarked or added to their subscriptions.
> 
> I hope that you continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds, and bear with me as plots begin to unfold. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the next chapter. Ready a whole day earlier.
> 
> Thank you all again. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 2:-**

Curling tendrils of darkness and coldness slashed at her mind.

_Danger._

They pressed along her skin...warning her.

Biting and clawing.

Someone had stepped across her wards. 

Holly woke to the pulsing beat of hummingbird wings flapping throughout her entire body, darting upright the moment her eyes snapped open, wand in her hand.

She was off the bed like a crack of a spell shooting out of a wand, shadows wrapping around her protectively, shrouding her from sight, blending almost entirely into the darkness. 

Her body tensed, her stomach tightened and hardened, and she fell into that part of herself that was always pushing to the surface, primal instincts that pushed back everything else and drove her forward one foot in front of the other as she searched for the threat. 

Holly slipped through the crack of her bedroom door without making a sound, her bare arms prickling as cold air washed over her. 

She drew a breath. 

Calmed her racing heart, until the beats were a little less frantic and less likely to give her away should anyone be able to hear them.

Holly took a step forward, as her senses stretched and rolled through her apartment as if she was a gentle breeze. 

She could feel them.

The intruder. The pulsing beat of _life_ that called to her with every beat of _their_ heart. 

A soft glow that she could see, feel and taste. 

The shadows stalking them as they moved from kitchen to living room. 

_Threat?_ They purred. 

All Holly had to do was reach just a little for the rippling current of power that prowled inside itching to reach the surface. 

To be used. 

_Wait,_ she ordered. 

Holly hated it, hated it as much as she found comfort in it. Hated that it felt so familiar, so much like..._home_. 

Her wards prevented muggles from breaking in, which meant whoever was intruding was a witch or a wizard, and good enough to slip in through her wards, without shattering them into a thousand pieces. 

Potential spells raced to the surface, but Holly wanted answers and going non-lethal was her only option if she intended to get them.

_Eliminate?_

_No._

Movement caught her eyes, a glimpse in the moonlight of pale white skin. 

She drew another breath. 

And moved.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Scarlet light flared to life and shot out of her wand. 

Holly's eyes widened.

"Goddamn it Luna!" she hissed through clenched teeth, as her spell hit the glass Luna was holding and promptly shot out of her friend's hand and across the room hitting the wall with a smash.

Holly stared at Luna. 

Luna stared at her, a dazed look on her face as her mouth fell open. 

Not that Luna stayed surprised for long, her mouth closed and her lips turned into a smile.

"Hello, Holly."

"Hello, Holly. Really, hello, Holly? I could have killed you!"

"But you didn't."

As if that made all the difference.

"That is completely beside the point," Holly snapped.

"Your wards are keyed to me, and Hermione and Ron. Nobody else could have gotten past them," Luna countered, waving her wand at the mess which vanished in seconds. 

A light hummed to life, and Holly was able to get a good look at her friend. Someone she hadn't seen in twelve months. 

Not that Luna had changed. 

Still, moonlight pale, silvery long hair that made her appear more _other_ than human, still silent strength with all to knowing and seeing blue eyes.

Luna was right. 

She had designed her wards specifically to only allow four people to get past them. 

Four people besides herself. 

If she had taken the seconds she needed for that thought to have caught up with her, then she wouldn't have gone straight on the attack.

Except even behind layers and layers of magic Holly still didn't feel safe. Didn't switch off easily. Her instincts too ingrained into her. 

She was always ready for an attack.

Voldemort. 

Assassination attempts in the years that followed. 

Various Dark Witches and Wizards trying to make a name for themselves by killing her. 

Hydra. 

Her list of enemies was always growing.

Another always rose to take the place of those she had defeated. 

"You were dreaming."

Holly snorted in response...and because she was dreaming, the lingering taint still gripping her even now.

She very rarely slept for long these days. 

"I don't dream, at least not pleasantly, not anymore."

"Nightmares have just as an important message as dreams do Holly; you know this better than most."

"I know what my nightmares are telling me, Luna," Holly replied coldly, crossing her arms and glaring at the wall to the side of her friend. 

Luna, it seemed sensed her reluctance and didn't push any further. 

"Four hundred."

Holly snapped her gaze back up to her friend who was glancing down at the various files and parchment that Holly had spread out across the table she had commandeered as her workspace. 

Luna's face was grim, her blue eyes dim in comparison to the glistening blue she was so used to seeing. 

"I have the information you asked for, it took some time between me asking and having it gathered discreetly of course, and I was in a different country. But four-hundred."

"Over how long of a period?" Holly asked, needing to know the answer even if she didn't want to acknowledge the answer. 

"Five years. Four hundred muggle-borns over five years," Luna replied, "There could be more, that number only includes those that have reached eleven in the last five years. Those that never answered their letters when they came. It doesn't include those that aren't quite powerful to have wands."

"Muggle statistics say 800,000 children a year go missing in the United States, though I think that is only a rough figure, subject to change, four hundred muggle-borns over a five year period is - _alarming,"_ Holly replied, walking towards the table and the files in order for her to write down a new note, a new theory.

"How confident are we the intel is accurate?" She asked, looking up at Luna.

"Confident. My sister-in-law works for the department in MACUSA that deals with integrating the muggle-borns, or rather No-Maj-born as they are called here." 

"Was it investigated?"

"Not really. Muggles _move_ too much for them to really take notice. Children connected to military families. _We_ have never been very good at communicating amongst ourselves, so it was never checked if they went to another school."

"And because no further magic was found in the area that they were first located at, the case closed."

"Exactly."

"Fuck, it's worse than I thought." Holly moved to the table, spreading out a few files. 

She continued, "Four hundred in the States in five years. Two hundred and eighty on our side of the pond and that's just looking at the last five years, and nobody has noticed," Holly muttered, "and I have Krum checking figures within Europe, and they are steadily rising."

"What does it mean Holly?"

"It means somebody is hunting muggle-borns and they are going after them when they are at their weakest before they even learn about magic. About our world and the world, they belong to."

"But who -" Luna stopped and looked up at her, "Hydra."

"Hydra. But they have to be getting help from one of our lot, not unless they have found a way to track accidental magic, but even that would be too fucking random," Holly rambled. 

Gods it had been too long since she had been able to bounce ideas off someone else. Even when Hermione and Ron were sharing what they had _found_ the conversations had been kept brief and left them with more questions than answers.

"How has nobody noticed? How have _we_ not noticed?"

"Because we were cleaning up after Voldemort. Voldemort destroyed the records of muggle-borns when he was in power, and it took time to sift through all that mess." Holly sighed, "Because they are all under eleven - so it's before they even get their letters, it only becomes noticeable when someone goes to invite them to a school, and they aren't there."

"How did you notice?"

"Andromeda," she answered, shifting through the files to the five she was referring to, "Five of the muggle-borns the foundation was helping disappeared. She contacted me, and I investigated, the trail went cold, but witnesses confirmed that men in tactical gear with guns took them. I went back over the records of the muggle-borns and started to notice a few here, and there hadn't gone to Hogwarts. No records of them and the cases were cold on the muggle-side. Disappearances, parents murdered. Not enough to draw too much attention or pattern, but with the magical world involved you could see a connection, a bigger pattern."

Holly trailed off.

"You kept looking."

"I kept looking and found a whole lot more," Holly admitted, "some of the parents were still alive, their children had been missing for five years or longer. Just vanished. Others, I found evidence of memory charms. They couldn't even remember having a child, it was the schools that reported them missing."

"You've been working on this for the last four years?"

"The first year was while I was still working as an Auror, so other cases always came in, but the last three I have been working on nothing else. I've been working undercover trying to find out as much information I could about Hydra, but they were like ghosts, at least until Captain America and everything that happened nine months ago. Hydra became very public then, but now they are in the fucking wind, and kids are still going missing."

"What are they doing with them?" Luna asked. 

"That's the question, isn't it?" Holly answered, a lump formed in the back of her throat. Her mouth had suddenly gone to dry. "I found some of the bodies, or what was left of them. But those that survived, those that _they_ keep. I don't know."

Luna looked up at her, "What's your next move?"

Holly licked her lips ever so slightly; Luna was probably going to think she was crazy.

"The Avengers."

Luna blinked, her eyes widening ever so slightly. 

"The Avengers? Muggle's mightiest heroes," Luna repeated, "I can see you fitting in with them wonderfully."

Holly rolled her eyes, "Yeah, sure, I'm not a hero. I'm a dead witch walking, as far as the Wizarding World is concerned."

"Not dead, just missing," Luna corrected, with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You are doing what you need to do, always putting others before yourself."

Holly wasn't so sure about that. Yes, she wanted to protect the children; yes, she wanted to defeat Hydra. But a large part of her, a part of her she was desperately trying to grapple with wanted to hurt them. To obliterate them. 

And Holly was sure that part of her was hungry for revenge. 

"So the Avengers," Luna said softly. 

"I had a job interview yesterday, and I got it on a trial basis. Acting as support to the Avengers, can't say exactly what it involves really but if anything Hydra related is found I should be able to get the information."

"You're spying on them."

Holly groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "When you say it out loud like that, it makes me question what I have just signed up for. I don't spy; I'm direct and straight to the point. I am totally going to screw this up."

Luna grinned at her, "I think it will be good for you."

"Really?" Holly asked in surprise, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her friend, she was expecting _something_ other than I think it will be good for you.

"I think you will find exactly what you are looking for with them...and I think it will surprise you."

"Well, that's not cryptic at all," Holly pointed out, "Nor is it helpful."

"I didn't realise I was supposed to be helpful," Luna teased, "I think we both could do with a drink."

"It's three in the morning."

"And, when has that ever stopped us before, I insist."

"Will it involve ice-cream?"

"Of course, and Dragons-breath and Fire whiskey," Luna grinned.

The tension slipped from her shoulders as Luna ushered her into the kitchen. It had been too long since she had seen any of her friends, to long since she had allowed herself any type of comfort or contact with her old life. 

_Hermione and Ron_ were the only ones who truly knew why she had withdrawn, though Holly was sure Luna _knew_ more than she was letting on. Her friend didn't say anything, didn't push, she was just there like a breath of fresh air that reminded Holly of the fleeting moments that they had been allowed to be normal, allowed to be human.

"So tell me how is married life?"

Luna's grin widened, and Holly couldn't help but relish in the normalness of the moment. For a single minute or hour, everything else could wait. Her being the worst spy in the history of spies was another day's problems. 

Right here, right now, she was _just_ Holly. 

She wasn't the saviour, the hero, the woman-who-conquered and any other ridiculous name the Wizarding World had dreamt up for her. 

She wasn't a woman on a mission to take down an evil organisation.

She was Holly who sipped Fire-Whisky and downed Dragons-breath and ate ice-cream knowing full well tomorrow she was going to be drinking a hangover potion, but that would be fine. 

She was Holly, who couldn't stop the smile spreading across her lips as Luna gushed about Rolf and their grand adventures.

* * *

For one second, he forgot. 

Forgot himself, forgot who he was, his left hand rising on reflex to his mouth so he could nibble on his skin. 

A tick that his subconscious remembered when he was too far gone in his thoughts, that even now still happened. It wasn't until he felt the metal touching his lips that he recoiled away, pulling his arm down faster than a blink.

His face tightened, his brow drawing close.

He was tired, so _fucking_ tired. 

Another sleepless night, memories turning and twisting and unearthing things that made no sense. 

Blood covered hands, knives dripping, guns discarded on the ground. Tear streaked faces, eyes pleading as they sobbed and _begged_. 

Bucky smacked his head against the wall. 

Pain jolting through him, pushing away the flashes that plagued him. 

His stomach churned, and he could taste bile on his tongue. 

He wanted it to stop. 

He _needed_ to stop.

But his silent pleas went unheard. 

And it was no less than he deserved.

Monsters like him didn't deserve _absolution_. 

The only comfort granted to him was the first rays of sun dancing across his chest as it cut through the blinds, chasing away the lingering darkness that clung to him. 

Pushing back the shadows. 

Dawn was Bucky's favourite time of day. 

The pivotal peak between darkness and light where it was neither night nor day.

He enjoyed the peaceful quiet when the others in the tower were asleep, and the only noise _he_ could hear was the hum of the air-con, he had on at night. Complete silence let him wonder to deep in his thoughts, where one wrong turn could have him lost for hours or days until Steve dragged him back out. 

But quiet wasn't silence. 

It was just right. 

It was peaceful. 

And it had been such a long time since he had any kind of peace. 

He enjoyed the quiet, just like he enjoyed his solitude. 

Until he didn't. 

He absently scratched at his chest, his fingers feeling the difference in texture as he trailed over words etched permanently onto his skin. 

Bucky sighed, moved his hand away from his chest and _words_ and ran his right hand across his chin, five-day stubble scratching at his flesh, reminding him that _he_ needed to shave...if he wanted to. 

Choice, everything was a choice now. 

He had to keep reminding himself of that because a part of him was still awaiting orders. 

Still awaiting a mission. 

Bucky closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the wall and breathed. 

He could feel it, moving under the surface, all the time, a surge of power, a current of electricity always looking for an outlet, always looking to push forward the moment he let his control slip for even a second. 

Control. 

He was in control. 

Nobody else. 

Him. 

He wasn't the Asset. 

He wasn't the Fist of Hydra. 

He was a human being. Flesh and blood and bone. 

He was James Buchanan Barnes. 

Bucky. 

He was Bucky. 

_I'm with you till the end of the line._

His eyes snapped open. Memories glistening like broken shards of a mirror just out of reach. Occasionally he would catch the reflection and images out of sequence would unfurl.

Sometimes they would be pleasant. 

Other times he was left hurling, his heart pounding in his chest.

He had come agonisingly close to ending Steve's life. 

Too fucking close. 

He couldn't be trusted, and yet he couldn't ignore the hopeful, wishful looks that Steve threw his way whenever he thought Bucky didn't notice. 

Bucky noticed. 

Training that had been instilled into him noticed every detail, no matter how small or insignificant it appeared to be. 

He saw Steve's hopeful, longing looks...and he wasn't ready to face that.

He wasn't ready to face that _part_ of his past. 

And yet the memories flickered, and the feelings stirred to life in him, swirling around and around until _he_ couldn't breathe. 

He felt a warm caress along his skin, in his soul, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention and the feel of something good pulsed soothingly at him. 

Offering comfort, all he had to do was reach out and...

**No!** He pushed back on the warmth, letting ice fill his veins until he was impenetrable. 

Bucky flinched as something stabbed at his chest, at his heart. 

_Steve. _

He wanted to feel guilty. But he couldn't, it was safer to keep him at arm's length, safer to keep him away.

His phone vibrated the moment he shut down the connection, the moment he pushed back.

He rolled his eyes at the message from Steve. 

No mention of what had just happened between them, just a reminder that _he_ needed to eat. 

He snorted; it was so typically Steve, mothering instincts even when he shouldn't. 

Ignore the elephant between them, focus on the smaller details and stew on what it meant that he had _pushed_ him away again. 

Bucky drew a deep breath. His lungs felt like rocks. 

He pushed himself to his feet. Breakfast, meeting. 

But first, he needed a shower. 

A shower then clothes then breakfast.

A routine. 

Something he needed more than he liked to admit.

* * *

Bucky stepped into the War Room grateful that he was the first to arrive. It allowed him to pick his favourite spot that gave him a clear view of the whole room. 

Usually, he ended up in a silent battle of wills with Natasha for it, one that _she_ often won, but today, the seat was his. 

His gaze swept across the room, looking for signs of interference before doing a second and third scope for the _less_ visible signs. A force of habit he was unable to break, despite knowing that Jarvis rendered his searches a waste of time.

He pulled his chair out, further than necessary from the table that gave him the room to move should he ever be required to defend or attack, and sat down. His back protected by the wall, he crossed his arms in front of him and waited. 

Fingers grazed over the familiar handles of his knives blending in perfectly with the tactical vest he wore. A black glove covered his metal hand, making _him_ appear normal, more _human_ and less _monster._

The door opened, his eyes snapped to attention as Banner and Sam Wilson walked in. Sam holding two mugs of coffee and carefully balancing a plate of what looked to be muffins.

He raised an eyebrow questioningly at the two of them. 

"Sam's decided to take after Samwise and have a second breakfast," Banner supplied. 

"What the _fuck_, there is nothing wrong with a second breakfast, and I'm too tall to be a hobbit."

Bucky snorted, "I don't know, you're what smaller than me."

"One inch. You are one inch taller than me."

"One inch makes all the difference," Bucky smirked.

"I bet that's what you say to all the girls," Sam sniped back.

"It's how you use the extra inch."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise, and he wrinkled his nose, "That is a mental image I do not need Barnes, now or ever."

Using the mental disturbance as a distraction, he reached over for one of the coffee cups and snagged it. 

"Barnes you son of a bitch, that was mine. I need my caffeine. Have a muffin instead."

Bucky licked the rim of the cup and smirked, "Nah, you keep your muffins. I prefer coffee."

Sam's eyes widened, and his brow creased, "Damn it, now I have to go make another one."

"Better hurry, birdbrain," he chuckled as he sipped the coffee. Just the way he liked it. 

Sam flipped him off as he exited the War Room.

Sam may bitch and moan, but he couldn't help but wonder whether _he_ had intentionally brought a second mug of coffee just the way he liked it. 

"The muffins I get, but I'm not entirely sure why he needed two cups of coffee," Banner commented.

"Steve says he needs caffeine in the morning before he's functional. But I have my doubts, he's huff and puff, but the coffee is exactly _how_ I drink it," Bucky replied with a shrug, taking another sip of his coffee. 

Banner smiled slightly at him, "Does he know you know he does it deliberately."

"And miss a chance to rile him up, I will never tell him."

"Are you antagonising Sam again?" Steve asked as he entered the room, his own mug in his hands.

"Who me? Nah."

"Uh-huh," Steve threw him a look that said pure and simple he didn't believe him for a second, "Did you sleep last night?"

Bucky stilled. 

_No._

The terrible nights, drew Steve to his room.

The man standing vigilantly over him, pulling him out of the dark when Bucky needed him to. 

Those nights he slept. 

Comforted by the warmth that was Steve.

But the risks were too high for it to become a regular thing, no matter how much Steve was willing to risk it. So Bucky often lied, said he slept when he didn't.

"Did you?" He countered, "I'm not the only one that needs sleep punk."

Steve looked down at his mug and chuckled, "Yeah, yeah. We are both as bad as each other."

"Have either of you tried meditation?" Banner asked suddenly, his eyes darting between the two of them, "I find it helps."

"I can't say that I have, my body needs to move too much for me be able to sit still for too long," Steve admitted. 

"The Serum, a blessing and a curse. The pinnacle of human physical potential - though it does mean you have more energy to burn than most. Meditation isn't always sitting still - there are a few different types of meditation that involve movement; perhaps one of them may be more beneficial for you."

"Sex is also a perfect way to get rid of excess energy, perhaps you should try it, Cap, it would be beneficial for you," Stark quipped as he entered the room, the man not glancing up from his phone as he sat down in the seat next to Banner, "Plus men and women would line up at the opportunity."

Bucky stilled as his eyes slid over to Steve, who stood equally frozen as he all but glared at Stark.

"How has the conversation turned to sex again, seriously Barnes, I told you I didn't need the mental images," Sam chimed as he re-entered the room with another steaming cup of coffee. 

Bucky held up his palms, "Don't look at me. Stark is offering."

"I am disturbingly interested in that trail of thought about how you were talking about it earlier," Stark smirked, "And where was I for that conversation."

"Not here," Sam stated. 

Stark rolled his eyes, "Obviously."

"I worry about the level of intelligence in this room, and the fact that people expect us to save them," Banner said softly as he shook his head. 

"Boys, you can't be in a room together for five minutes without turning the conversation to sex," Natasha added as she walked into the room, followed closely by Hill and Clint.

"I was just saying the Cap needs to get laid, Wilson was the one that came in talking about sex and mental images," Stark argued

"Only because Barnes was talking about how to use an extra inch."

Bucky was aware of all eyes looking at him, "I was talking about height birdbrain; it's not my fault your brain went there."

Sam opened his mouth to argue back.

"Enough!" Steve growled at them, silence filled the room. 

"Doesn't it just make you want to purr when the Cap goes all-dominating on you?" Stark chuckled, just as Natasha flicked his ear. 

Steve glared at him.

"Apologies for my tardiness," Thor greeted as he stepped through the door, shutting it firmly behind him. 

Steve gave a curt nod in acknowledgement, his entire demeanour changing the moment the door shut. 

He remained standing as the rest of them sat, his feet planted in a wide stance his fists clenched and his jaw set. Bucky could see the little muscle at its corner.

Bucky knew that _look_. Had seen that look too many times on the man's face before, had seen it right before he attempted to sign up for the last time, the time he got picked as the super solider.

His eyes closed.

Bucky's chest clenched, the memory hitting him harder than any of them previously had, the images flashing through his mind. 

Stark's flying car. 

Dot and another girl. 

Stevie _fighting_ in a back alley. 

His last night before he was sent to the front lines.

Stevie telling him he had finally been accepted...fear gripping him with an iron fist and squeezing so fucking hard because it was war and Bucky couldn't protect him.

Bucky clenched his fist and went still. 

_Breathe. _

Just breathe.

His eyes opened slowly and froze when he realised every set of eyes were on him, the coffee mugs handle had snapped in his hand, and coffee spilt across the table and dripped to the floor. 

His body trembled as he angled himself away from the scrutiny of the others; he dropped his chin to his chest. 

"Sorry," he mumbled as he took the paper towels that Sam passed to him. He hadn't even noticed the other man leaving the room, a rookie mistake. 

A weak mistake. 

He felt Steve's presence at his side and shied away almost instinctively. Steve hovered but didn't make any sudden move towards him, no move to touch him, just grabbed a paper towel and crouched down to tackle the mess on the floor.

"A memory?"

Bucky nodded, painfully aware that the others were listening while trying not to hear at the same time. 

"I'm fine," he muttered.

"You're stronger than you _think_ you are," Steve countered, his hand hovering dangerously close to his knee, the temptation to reach out and touch him was strong, like magnets pulling them together. But Bucky dared not. 

It wasn't safe. 

"You okay to continue?" Steve asked quietly. 

Steve was giving him a choice. A choice to stay and listen to the meeting or to leave. 

"Yeah, punk," he mumbled. 

Steve collected the towels, rose to his feet and dropped them in the trash can, before moving back to the position he was in before...Bucky swallowed. 

This time Steve sat down, almost as if he was aware that _he_ triggered the memory just by standing in that same defiant manner he had all his life.

"We've got a lot to go over today, but now we are all here, we might as well get started," Steve announced, before turning to look at Thor.

"Anything to report on your side of the nine-realms?"

Thor cleared his throat, "As you are aware I have renounced my claim to the throne, to allow me to fulfil my role as guardian over the nine-realms. I can report that there are no further signs indicating unrest within the nine-realms."

"Any reports on Chitauri movement?" Stark asked, his face looking pained and grim.

"Tony," Steve said softly. 

"Save it, Cap, New York's invasion was a drop in the ocean in _their_ forces. If they come again, then _we_ are screwed."

"My quest in finding answers has proved futile. _They_ are not from a known world, you must remember that the universe is vast compared to what _your_ scientists believe it is."

"Right, so we aren't any closer to finding answers then. What about Loki?"

"He is shielded from Heimdall's sight. _He_ is on Earth, and he has yet made no move to attack further."

"But he potentially will, do we have information on his Scepter yet, cos I got say, man, the last thing we need is _him_ getting his hands back on that," Clint pointed out.

"My contact with General Talbot is shaky at best currently, but I haven't received any confirmation yet that _it_ has been catalogued with items that have been sized from SHIELD," Hill replied, "I am however liaising with the United Nations for any possible movements on Loki - if he makes a move on Earth we will know about it. And on less well-known contacts that I will deny in court, Shield is attempting to track down the Scepter for us. They believe Hydra took it."

"I would say that is likely considering we practically handed it over to them," Steve admitted.

Bucky shifted in his seat, _he_ was aware of the powers that the Scepter had, mind control, it left him with an uneasy weight pressing down on him at the thought that Hydra had it within their grasp.

That they could use it against others. 

Against him. 

"This brings me to our main point,"

"Oh good, I did wonder why Jarvis set six reminders for this meeting. We all know I don't do meetings. Pepper does my meetings," Stark quipped.

"Tony," Steve warned, throwing the man a look that said now wasn't the time nor the place, Stark smirked at Steve but stayed silent. 

Steve continued, "As important as capturing Loki is, we don't have the resources to track him across the world until he makes a move. Especially when Hydra has ten cells currently in New York."

The news rippled through the room almost immediately. Clint and Hill both tensed, glancing between Natasha and Steve. Stark sat up that little straighter and even Banner looked more _concerned_ though reading the man was practically impossible. 

"Jarvis clear my schedule," Stark said.

"Of course sir."

"Are we certain?" Hill asked her eyebrow rose questioningly. 

"The intel was good, and he didn't lie to me," Natasha replied.

"How many are we talking about?" Clint asked. 

"Ten, ten-man teams," Natasha answered.

"That's a sizeable group if they work together," Hill pointed out, her brow creasing into a frown.

"Provided they all have the same mission," Clint agreed.

"Is an attack inevitable?"

"We have raised the security to threat level four as a precaution. We can speculate all we like and run around in circles," Steve said, bringing the focus back to him, his voice calm and reassuring, "We need more information _before_ we make a move. We can't risk screwing this up if they have planned an attack. We can't make a move until we have all the facts."

"So what is our next move?" Stark asked. 

The screen flared to life, and a map became visible. One red dot visibly marked in the location _he_ had confirmed as a hideout. Bucky prayed he wasn't fucking wrong now. 

The rest of the map had fifteen white dots - each representing a possible hideout. Jarvis working his magic in using Hydra's own algorithm against them. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot but _it_ was a start. The orange dots represented potential targets that would have a significant impact on their government or the rest of the world. Embassies, government buildings, the Avengers Tower, anything that would _hurt_ the stability of the world. Yellow dots represented areas that would have the most significant loss of life. 

"We have one confirmed hideout from Bucky's memories. We have fifteen potential others, we need to find out which ones are being used, which ones are abandoned. _Our_ faces stick out too much, which is going to make this difficult," Steve answered. 

"Well it's a good job I hired some extra people yesterday, but even they aren't going to be able to cover all of them," Hill replied, "It would only take one of them to be spotted twice in the same place."

"We can work with it. Tony, I need you to work your social connections; _we_ need to know what is happening with the social elites anything _that_ could make them a potential target...any politicians standing out too much. Any scientists on the verge of a breakthrough that will change the world. Not just here but worldwide," Steve answered, "Anyone giving funding to projects that are not on the books."

"Good thing we are in the social season then. Lots of parties," Stark snorted.

"We need to work out if any of the orange dots are likely targets for a potential attack - all of them would have an impact on not just our government but also the world, tension is running thick in areas of the world right now. One wrong move and it could explode," Natasha stated, taking point from Steve.

"Dare I ask what the yellow dots are for?" Banner asked his face solemn.

"Highest loss of life if they are going for _fear_ or to make a statement," Steve answered, a grim look twisting his face.

"You gotta be shitting me!" Stark's head snapped up.

"Fucking hell, that's a lot of ground to cover. Just when I thought the bastards couldn't get any worse," Clint growled.

"They can get worse," Bucky said, "They can get a lot worse."

"They were willing to kill over twenty million people that were considered a potential threat to their world view. At the moment this is just New York City, we have no idea if they are setting up similar operations in other cities," Steve said. 

"I will give Shield the heads up as a courtesy. We might end up having to work with them on this a little more than _you_ would like," Hill stated.

Steve's jaw clenched tightly, his muscle ticking; he gave a short nod, "I can work with that if it comes to it."

"Jarvis, start sifting through the chatter on the internet, see if anything catches the eye of 'end of days' or 'green with envy' to a dominant world-dominating organisation," Stark ordered.

"Of course sir is this still under Protocol thirteen."

"Yes!" Both Steve and Stark replied, glancing at each other. 

"Nobody outside this room knows what's going on, not until we get a feel for the new people. We cannot risk this information getting out."

"Agreed," Hill nodded, "Shield will get the bare bones."

Hill looked at him, and at Steve, "I have to ask, is there a possibility that Hydra is here for Barnes?"

"Won't happen," Sam snarled, Clint, nodding beside him. Both sets of eyes were hard and determined. 

A flicker of something _he_ couldn't name sparked to life ever so slightly, warming him. 

"Hydra won't win that fight. _I_ will personally tear them apart limb by fucking limb if they even think about it," Steve stated coldly.

"And he will have help," Clint agreed. 

"We protect our own. But as I said, we have increased the security to level four not just as a precaution for an attack on the building, but as a precaution for a move against Bucky," Natasha answered.

"It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy," Bucky snorted. 

A few of the others chuckled, the tension easing slightly, so it wasn't so thick or heavy in the room.

"I will also be staying at the Tower, in a week, that will add a level of protection here should they dare be foolish to attack," Thor announced, "Once I have returned from visiting Jane." 

"I have to say Point-break has well a..._point_," Stark noted, "They might take us on without questioning it, but surely they aren't going to be suicidal enough to take on the God of Thunder?"

"If only it were that easy to beat them into submission or prison," Natasha snorted, "The higher-ups may be smart, but it doesn't mean the foot soldiers are. And it doesn't mean they haven't come up with something new to try and counter any one of us. _They've_ had longer to prepare than we have."

"We all need to be extra vigilant, regardless. We have our aces, and we need to be prepared for any surprises they throw our way," Steve countered. 

He turned to look at Hill.

"When do the new people start?"

"Monday, but I don't think you are going to want to be throwing them into this straight away."

"We might have to hit the ground running on this with them, I want to say no. Get a feel for them, but we need everything we've got."

"I will figure something out and go from there," Hill replied.

"Who have we got?" Clint asked, tilting his head curiously to the side. 

"Jarvis," Hill prompted, waiting as the large screen shut down images of the map and instead brought five photos up. Three men and two women. 

"Charles Wood though he goes by Tank. Former Strike member and ex-military. One of the few Strike members that weren't Hydra and barely survived his team turning on him," Hill answered, "He still believes in the Avengers and what _you_ stand for."

"I remember working with him, he was a good soldier," Steve answered. 

"Followed by Adam Jackson, aka Jax. Former Strike member. They are trained enough they can offer you support when needed, as well as helping with training the other three new people," Hill continued.

Jarvis brought up the next photo, young women with mousy brown hair and brown eyes that were familiar and yet not. 

"Diane Phillips. Great-granddaughter of Colonel Chester Phillips. Engineer. She was one of the best we had."

Bucky studied the photo carefully, he could see it. The resemblance that sparked a sense of familiarity. She had the Colonel's eyes. 

"Phillips, she was good, designed some of my arrows," Clint stated. 

"I could use extra hands that understand the beauty of building and designing things, _provided_ she can keep up," Stark snorted.

"Ethan Sawyer," Hill said, as Jarvis brought up a new photo, "A data analyst. All of them stood with Shield during DC, but have lost their faith in Shield."

"And the fifth?"

A new photo was enlarged across the screen.

The first thing Bucky noticed was her eyes.

They were captivating. 

Bright emerald green. 

They shone in the photo and Bucky doubted the photo did them justice but they certainly made them entirely otherworldly. 

The second thing he noticed was the lightning bolt scar on her forehead faded enough to show it was an old scar and not a new thing.

It was an odd thing. Especially how perfectly shaped it was. 

He didn't know what would have caused it, knives or any other sharp instruments would have resulted in jagged edges. 

"Who is she?" Stark frowned. 

"The only civilian that applied and made it past the background checks or wasn't a drooling fan," Natasha answered.

Hill hesitated, her eyes darting between Steve and him. 

"Her name is Holly Jamie Potter."

Bucky froze.

Steve stiffened next to him.

"Oh shit!" Sam whistled through his teeth. Even Clint and Natasha seemed to register what the name meant but the others, the others stared blank-faced and confused. 

"I'm sorry; does somebody want to share with the rest of the class?" Stark asked.

Bucky closed his eyes. 

There had to be a mistake. _There_ had to be.

He could barely deal with Steve, Steve who he has known since he was seven years old and now...now the name that had plagued _him_ since he became free from Hydra's control, more aware of who he was, and what it meant.

Steve had said _his_ had been there since he woke up from the ice.

His chest tightened, his heart pounding in his ribcage. 

Everything was loud, too fucking loud. 

He couldn't think or _breathe._

"We both have a second mark. Her name. Holly Jamie Potter is our third," Steve answered, and Bucky could hear the confusion, the _doubt_, as the words rang loudly in his ears.

"You mean..." Stark began, opening his mouth and snapping it shut quickly.

"Yes."

"Where exactly have you been keeping _that_ name hidden?" Stark continued, "And since when?"

"Across our hearts. And at least since I woke up from the ice."

"Not everyone has soul marks Cap; more people _don't_ have them than anything else, as in it's rare to have them. You not only have one but a second."

"Yes."

"That happens to have been born this side of the war?"

"It would appear so."

"Fucking hell." 

"You are twice-blessed?" Thor asked.

Bucky fixed his gaze on the Asgardian. The Asgardian who very rarely spoke in the meetings, and yet when he did, Bucky was reminded just how young they all were in comparison to him.

"Twice-blessed, I don't believe I have heard that phrase before," Banner stated, "What exactly does it mean?"

"There are stories whispered across the universe about marks manifesting in such ways. Not with just one mark, but a second. Forming a triad," Thor answered, "But I had not heard of such markings on mortals."

"It complicates things," Sam said softly, with far too much understanding in his gaze as he looked between the two of them. 

"To be marked is to be considered blessed among my people, as it is in other realms," Thor stated.

"They are usually world changers on Earth Thor, for good or for bad. A domino effect," Hill answered.

"Not to mention the utter lack of choice in whom you are matched up to. Or in this case, _twice _matched to," Stark deadpanned. 

Thor frowned, "You have forgotten what it means to be marked. They travel together through many lifetimes. How you chose to perceive them is unique to you. There are no set rules," Thor said softly, "A friend, lover, co-worker, mentor, teacher or partner. But they are far more than merely signalling one's connection. Those marked usually appear when the _need_ for them is strongest."

"I came out of the ice and Loki invaded months later, even without my other marks," Steve said weakly, "Bucky and I almost tore apart D.C when our paths crossed again."

Thor looked at them both. Bucky could feel the power thrumming in the air around him with every word the Asgardian spoke. Bucky was old, but Thor was _ancient_ and not of their world.

"If this Lady Potter is indeed you're marked, then it means that something is coming. Something that will require all three of you, too face."

"Well that's _hardly_ a comforting thought," Stark said. 

"We will have to prepare for all possibilities, _war_ or not," Natasha said.

"Humans have forgotten their history."

"It doesn't help that history has been twisted by lots of different people. Concepts change, opinions are formed, history is forgotten or rewritten, and suddenly it _is_ the only way to see things," Banner said, "It could be a coincidence that she shows up now."

"I don't believe in coincidences, and we can't afford to either. _She_ could be a plant. Hydra had Barnes for seventy years. We don't know when the name appeared, but there is a strong chance they would have seen her name. Wouldn't take much to fashion a new identity," Natasha pointed out, "What do we know about her?"

"She worked for the Evans-Black Foundation as a Risk Assessor. She left twelve months ago." Hill answered. 

Bucky frowned. 

"Evans-Black Foundation?" Steve asked. 

"It's a non-profit organisation, projects around the world, helping those that need help. It provides Education, Health Care, Accommodation the works to those that need it. They have helped people ranging from drug problems, abuse victims, human trafficking rings, gangs, war zones. Relatively new Foundation if I recall," Stark waved his hand, "CEO is a woman named Andromeda Tonks. And let me tell you that woman is scary, even Pepper is wry of her. But she manages to get millions off the rich without them even flinching. Hell most of them think it's their idea rather than hers. I tell you what _that_ organisation would be a target for Hydra." 

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"From what her résumé says and what the official reports say, Potter was assessing a potential new area for a project house, investigating into cases of missing children that were linked to a human trafficking ring. It went south, and her entire team was killed. Potter survived," Hill replied as she looked at both of them, "How do you want to handle this?"

Bucky couldn't find his voice to say the words. Instead, he just stared at Steve, whose blue eyes looked at him with such rawness that it made him flinch back.

"I don't know."

They barely knew how to handle each other, as shattered as they were, how could having their second mark show up now be helpful to them.

_He_ was tainted goods. Bad enough he couldn't get Steve to see that he didn't need someone new to tarnish as well. 

"This could be Hydra's play. Use her as a distraction while they make their move," Stark said, "She could be a danger to our team."

"So better to have her here, and watch her," Natasha agreed. 

"And if she isn't Hydra?" Banner asked. 

"Then better for us to know about her, considering who she can potentially be. We can protect her better if _she_ is genuine," Natasha countered with a shrug.

"A contract," Stark declared. 

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he turned his attention to Stark, "A contract?"

The words didn't sound right coming out of his mouth. 

"Yes, Manchurian Candidate," Stark snorted as he answered, "A contract. It's the only solution. If she's not Hydra, and just a perfectly innocent woman who has your names engraved onto her skin, then it protects us and her from that information falling into the wrong hands."

He continued, "It would mean she wouldn't be able to go to the media, discuss with anyone about the marks."

"It would work," Hill agreed, "If the contract covers all angles, then we can contain this for as long as possible."

"I'm sorry, but that doesn't exactly send a positive message to her," Sam cut across, "I mean I'm all for protecting her, provided she isn't Hydra, but if she isn't then a contract seems a little impersonal. Cold even."

"It could be the only way that keeps her safe," Steve muttered, "Will it be ready in time for Monday?" 

Bucky snapped his attention to Steve, unable to fully keep the surprise from showing on his face. Steve didn't quite meet his gaze. 

He understands. 

He really does.

He couldn't say he was ready to face this particular prospect. This new development that was crashing into his life. He wasn't prepared. He was barely equipped for Steve.

How the hell was he supposed to be ready for a new unknown soulmate? 

When his hands were covered with the blood of the innocents. 

But whatever happened to just meeting your soulmate and figuring things out from there? 

"My lawyers will have it ready by Monday," Stark confirmed.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who had read, commented, kudos, added to bookmarks and subscriptions. I am still wowed by how much this story seems to be enjoyed by other people. 
> 
> This chapter has been a definite tearing my hair out kind of chapter. At the beginning of it I hated it, then I started to like it, and then I went back to hating it and then by the time I have finished it I actually like it. 
> 
> The first official meeting between the three of them - it might not be exactly how everyone has imagined it to be, but it's here.
> 
> Nervously hides behind hands. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 3:-**

The muggles say, give a woman the right lipstick, the right pair of shoes, and flawless lashes, and she could conquer the world. 

Andromeda Tonks says the right amount of beauty charms and your hair a certain way, and a witch could triumph over anyone who thought to put them down. 

Holly personally felt that if you gave a woman something she felt confident in, regardless of what it was, there was nothing she could not do. 

It was why as she stepped across the threshold of the Avengers Tower on her first day, she was grateful she had listened to her gut and donned her dragon-hide boots, charmed to blend in and not look out of place amongst the muggle world. 

Because wearing them, Holly felt like she could conquer the world. She also happened to have gone for the practicality of dressing smart enough to work in an office, but comfortable enough that should it come down to a fight she had the freedom of movement. 

And if she so happened to have added an extra layer of mascara and painted her lips blood red, then that was her prerogative.

It was her armour. 

Her mask perfectly perfected. 

She looked _more_ like herself than she had for her interview. 

She felt more like herself.

Holly couldn't lie and say that Luna's visit wasn't a welcome respite, a reconnection to her old life no matter how brief, even if she couldn't ever be that person fully again. 

Too much had changed. 

She had changed too much. 

In more ways than one. 

Holly's mind whirled, as she walked across the lobby to the reception desk, ideas and plans spinning around and around. 

She knew she had to tread carefully, now that she had the job, the hard part started. Holly could not afford to draw too much attention to herself. 

She needed to keep her head down, get the job done and gather the information she needed. 

And just because she was working at the tower didn't mean she couldn't pursue other avenues of investigating either. 

Holly shifted her bag on her shoulder and gripped the file in her hand. All the papers and documents, Hill had requested her to bring.

The receptionist slid her, her new ID badge over which would allow her to reach the upper levels of the tower with little fuss and Holly thanked her with a small smile before making her way towards the lift. 

Holly followed the same path she had four days earlier and waited patiently for the doors to slide open. 

The only difference _this_ time was, she wasn't alone. 

He had already been waiting patiently as she approached. Tall with a muscular build and arms that _she_ couldn't help but let her eyes trail over. They were some pretty impressive muscles and matching broad shoulders. 

He didn't look up at her approach right away, busying himself with his phone, but they stood mere inches apart as they waited. 

Holly was painfully aware of the heat radiating off him, painfully aware of _him_ in general.

He had a presence to him that you couldn't ignore, even if he weren't doing anything particularly exciting. 

Something was pulling at her...calling her. Not quite like when Ron had cast the Summoning Charm on her, but far more profound. 

As if something was tugging on her insides.

Holly pushed the strange sensation away from her thoughts as she became aware of eyes watching her from the corner of her eye. 

She glanced up at him. 

Blue eyes studying her, Merlin his eyes were seriously blue!

Full-on Prince Charming, bluebell flames bright blue. As if his eyes were permanently containing the dancing flames. 

"Morning," he greeted with a smile. 

"Morning," Holly answered, her lips turning upwards on their own accord. 

The tugging was back, stronger than it had been before and _something_ kneaded her mind in anticipation, shadows purring quietly and Holly felt as if her entire body was vibrating. 

The lift doors opened, and _he_ made the motion for her to enter. Holly tensed slightly as she stepped in front of him, she didn't want to be rude, but she didn't like the idea of giving him her back. 

The air shifted ever so slightly, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand to attention; her senses prickled, and her magic stirred opening almost sleepily eyes to view the world around it. 

Tasting everything around her.

There was a nudge in the back of her mind, and Holly was hyperaware of her surroundings. 

Of _him._

Her stomach dropped.

An unexplainable tug as her magic reached out. 

Something about _him_ was pulling at her. 

A deep sense of dread rose from her stomach as realisation dawned on her. 

Oh, fuck no. 

The universe was really fucking conspiring against her.

Holly's eyes snapped upwards to him and really took note of him. Looked past the friendly smile, the piercing blue eyes, and the good looking exterior.

She could see the furrowing of his brow. His jaw clenched tightly, and tightness around his eyes. 

Holly wetted her lips nervously and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. 

Soulmate. 

Soulmark. 

Her entire body was singing once she finally paid attention.

_He_ knew as well. 

She knew _he_ knew. 

Not everyone had a soulmark, a soulmate. 

Names marring their skin. 

Nobody knew where the marks came from, or why some were born with them. 

They were taught the stories; the tragedies in school. 

They were rare, random, _and abnormal_ if you listened to people like her aunt and uncle. 

Some religions stated that the marked eased the separation from God. A blessing to those chosen few lucky enough to bear the marks on their skin to help them find a way to endure the challenges _they_ would face.

_And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it._

Trial by fire, it was whispered. Tried and tested throughout their lives. 

_Saint_s regardless of the religion, origin, they _changed the world._

Science stated that those marked were an anomaly. No gene showed _who_ would be marked until they were born. There was no prediction, no pattern forming. It was random, chaotic even, but _they _and the Historians agreed that those who were marked were unique, exceptional world changers. 

Good or Evil. 

Trial by fire. 

They suffered, and the world suffered with them. 

A friend, lover, co-worker or partner, and to whom one is usually drawn to fulfil a specific mission. 

_Nexus, domino effect._

A curse or a blessing. 

Not everyone who changed the world had a soulmark. 

Not everyone who was marked changed the world in such a significant way. 

Holly personally felt that alone disapproved any theory on _what_ they were, and _why_ some people were born with them. 

They weren't something that could be understood, explained, only speculated and whispered about, adding to the legend and the myth and the weight to those that found themselves marked.

The Wizarding World had, at the very least, offered something more tangible to why some were marked. 

The focal point of the weave of life, they whispered. Used by magic herself to influence change. 

The Wizarding World had offered dazzling examples as well, Riddle, Grindelwald, Dumbledore, four other Dark Lords throughout history and many others she couldn't possibly name. 

For good or for bad, all of them, all of them had changed the Wizarding World in some way, the effects still being felt to this day.

Perhaps _that_ was just one of the reasons why fate had entwined Riddle and her into that fucking prophecy because _they_ both had been marked at the same time, but hadn't matched.

Her name had decorated _his_ skin, but _his_ had been absent from hers. 

They had been opposites, opposing sides.

Holly had never been more fucking grateful for that fact when she realised he bore her name and she didn't bear his. 

Though Holly wasn't sure whether it was down to her damn Potter luck that she had been born with not just one name, but two, or something else entirely. 

Abnormal even amongst the extraordinary. 

A freak of nature, just one more nail in the coffin that made her unable to fit in anywhere. 

Holly personally thought fate just liked fucking with her.

Holly closed her eyes for a second, and took a breath, pushing away the tightening knotting feeling that was growing in her stomach. 

Because while once upon a time, Steven Grant Rogers had remained a mystery to her, just a name, that Holly had been grateful hadn't belonged to her enemy or one of the children she had grown up with. 

Holly _knew_ exactly who he was now. 

It may have taken her a moment for her to place the face of the man standing in the lift with her, but there was no mistaking who he was now. 

Steven Grant Rogers was none other than Captain America, which meant...which meant that James Buchanan Barnes was none other than Bucky Barnes, more renowned for his recent status as the Winter Soldier. 

Fate really liked fucking with her, she could accept, maybe, and ignore the idea of two names circling her heart. Those names belonging to two heroes from the 40s; both with superpowers, one belonging to the tag of Earth's Mightiest Heroes after the Battle of New York and the other a _former_ brainwashed assassin, well that was just _fucking_ taking it to far.

Not that she had any room to judge, she was a fucking witch. 

Holly swallowed the snort that threatened to escape because wasn't that an amusing thought, a witch and two super soldiers - what exactly did they have in common.

_Hydra._

All three of them had Hydra in common. 

Holly wasn't entirely convinced that was a great foundation to build upon. 

Did she say anything?

Should she?

Or should she push it downwards and ignore. 

_He_ wasn't saying anything either.

Holly could feel his eyes pressing along her skin though, she met his gaze once, and he quickly looked away.

Fixing his gaze on the lift doors, as if willing them to open, now so he could make his escape. 

That hurt, just a little. 

It bothered Holly that it did, that it mattered at all.

She shouldn't be surprised; she never fitted in anywhere, why would actually meeting _them_ be any different. 

She was a freak, abnormal, _why would anyone want her._

** _No!_ **

Holly firmly slammed the door shut on that particular thought. 

That's not why she was here; she would never have entered the idea of working here had she known. 

She couldn't afford to be distracted now. 

Holly couldn't afford to lose focus, not even with the fact that she would be working in the same building as her soulmates. 

She wasn't that little girl anymore that had clung to the two names like a lifeline when all she had was shadows as company. 

When loneliness was all she had ever known. 

That wasn't who she was, not anymore, and even if a small voice in the back of her mind whispered, _liar. Liar. Liar. _

She couldn't afford to be that little girl she used to be; who had craved family and love, and acceptance and the idea that somebody would come and rescue her.

She had learnt the hard way; Holly had learnt to rescue herself. 

So while _she_ wanted somewhere to belong, somewhere to truly call home, Holly knew better than to reach for it. 

Not with everything she had done; everything she had survived. 

Holly was perfectly fine on her own. 

She was here for one reason, and one reason only and that didn't include her soulmates.

Holly had never been more grateful when the doors of the lift slid open; she stepped out, leaving _Steven_ standing in there alone. 

She turned back to him, pushing a smile across her face, even though she felt as though someone had scooped out her insides and shoved them into a blender. Leaving one mushy slaw, she couldn't even begin to make heads or tails of.

She didn't want to think. 

She didn't want to breathe.

But she was Holly _fucking_ Potter. Small but mighty. 

She didn't let the world see her bleed, didn't let the world see her weaknesses. 

"Have a nice day." Even years later, Petunia's voice was still ingrained into her actions no matter how hard she tried to push the woman's voice out. 

_Little girls are, sugar and spice and all things nice. _

He stared at her in surprise. 

They hadn't introduced themselves to each other, so while they both felt the connection, Holly could still play dumb enough to say she didn't realise who he actually was. 

"You too," he muttered as the lift doors slid shut behind her. 

Holly let her smile drop and used the precious second of privacy to pull her tattered inner pieces back together. Letting the icy cold depths and shadows and darkness shroud her just a little, freezing the inferno of swirling raging emotions she was currently feeling. 

She straightened her shoulders, took a breath and steeled her spine.

She was a witch. An Auror. Armed. Dangerous. 

And while they didn't know it, Holly had the upper hand right now, because if need be, she could and would disappear in a blink of an eye, and _they_ would never be able to find her. 

She wasn't cornered, and while Holly wasn't prepared to run, was more than prepared to see this through, Holly liked knowing that she had a backup plan if everything went to hell. 

"Potter, you are here, good, we can begin the paperwork."

Holly turned to face Hill, with a smile she had perfected and followed behind the woman as she indicated to follow her. 

The real hard work began now.

* * *

It felt as if explosions were simultaneously going off through his entire body. 

His chest burned, his heart thumped, and his soul cried out _soulmate, soulmate, soulmate. _

Much like it had the first time he had met Bucky. 

His plan to feel her out to see if she was _genuine_ had worked, but it had proven almost too much. 

Steve couldn't deny the overwhelming urge he had to reach out with the bonds, reach for the empty space and just connect. 

He ran a hand through his hair, grateful that he had a few precious moments of privacy to gather himself before he faced the others, with his confirmation. 

There was no denying that _this_ Holly Potter was their soulmate. 

The elevator doors slid open with a soft hiss, and he came face to face with Bucky, who seemed to barely contain the pent up _frustration_ and _energy_ that was vibrating through his entire body. 

_Their_ entire bodies. 

Steve had pulled on the bonds a little too much to anchor himself while he had been so close to Holly. 

Blue eyes that held more coldness to them, than he could remember narrowed as Bucky looked at him. 

"It's her."

Two words, two fucking words, was all it took for the reality of the situation to hit him right in the stomach. 

"It is," Steve answered, stepping out of the elevator. 

Bucky fell into step alongside him, neither of them spoke, and Steve wasn't sure whether it was because they had nothing to say, or because they just didn't want to break the silence that had fallen between them for the last four days. 

Four days, had really only been four days since Hill had uttered her name, spinning everything on its axis.

He had been busy working with Tony and his team of lawyers on what _should_ be included in the contract and what shouldn't. Pepper and Sam the voices of reason when the lawyers tried to pin it down too firmly, but _they_ needed to make it as iron tight as they possibly could. 

If Holly wasn't Hydra, then they needed to ensure the knowledge of who she was never fell into enemy hands. 

But the only one who hadn't said anything, who hadn't put any input into the contract was Bucky. 

Bucky who had actively avoided anything to do with it, and in turn had evaded him for the last four days. 

Steve had hoped that they would be able to talk, honestly talk, about this new development, that they could work together in how to face it. 

But Bucky had remained closed off and silent. 

Steve couldn't even judge through the bonds exactly what _he_ was feeling or thinking. 

Words had always failed him when describing the bonds. He didn't believe they did it justice and how could _he_ possibly describe it to those who had never experienced it before and wouldn't unless they had their own marks themselves. 

The closest he could get was it was energy. An electric current that passed through them, it could be as comforting as stepping into a hot bath, chasing the chill from your bones and your soul. It could be as light as a summer breeze, brushing across his skin. 

It was home.

At least it had been always between him and Bucky. 

Now, now he was starting to question everything, Bucky who closed himself off almost as much as he left the bond open. Bucky who was both a raging ocean and an Arctic polar vortex.

He knew Sam said to give him time, and he was, fuck he was, he was trying to hold back, trying not to push, because Bucky had suffered enough, but Steve wanted, to talk to him, to make everything better, to go back to the way _they_ used to be. 

When it had been like breathing. 

But that was then and this was now.

And all he could feel was emptiness. 

Together, a united front on the outside at the least, they walked into the War Room where the others were already sitting and waiting. 

Tony looked up at them, the question written across his face, didn't need to be voiced. 

"She's our soulmate," Steve said. 

"Right, well, the contract is ready. Everything is ready for when Maria has finished and brings Holly Potter up here." Tony nodded before continuing, "Jarvis, can you bring up the camera in the interview room they are in."

The large screen flared to life, allowing them to _see _Holly and Maria, going over the paperwork, dotting the I's and crossing the T's. 

"She's not what I was expecting," Clint said softly.

Steve frowned.

No, she wasn't what _he_ had been expecting either, he had been taken aback by the red-painted lips and British accent that reminded him so much of Peggy that for a brief moment, Steve had forgotten to breathe and then he had been hit by the energy of the bonds, and he had wrestled for control.

The universe is cruel, taunting him with another soulmark, another soulmate that reminded him of a woman he fell in love with seventy years ago. He had fallen hard and fast for Peggy Carter, she had taken his breath away and while he _loved_ Bucky, would always love Bucky, he had _wanted_ something with Peggy.

Now it seemed one cosmic joke he was connected to another British woman, who appeared to be opposite Peggy Carter in every way possible. 

If he was to have another soulmate, then why couldn't it have been her, though had been, she would have been condemned to live a life without him.

And Steve wasn't selfish enough to wish that on the woman he loved.

And there was still a part of him that loved Peggy...Steve couldn't deny that. 

Bucky's eyes flickered his way, hardened considerably before he fixed his attention back onto the screen. 

Had he pushed that thought out a little too loudly?

He pushed down on his feelings and strengthened his own mental shields, carefully ensuring that he kept everything on a tight leash.

Steve rubbed a hand across his jaw, aware of Natasha eyeing him up, of Sam looking at him with concern swirling in his warm brown eyes. 

He hadn't wanted to think about it when he first got out of the ice, and then Steve had been thrown straight into an Alien invasion, and he hadn't be _required_ to think about it. 

He had refused Fury's offer of trying to track her down. 

He hadn't wanted to know. Not when the loss of Bucky was still too raw.

He didn't need - no, he didn't _want_ another soulmark.

Then there was Hydra and Bucky alive and breathing. 

There had been no point when he had Bucky back.

Yet here she was flesh and blood, living and breathing. 

He had been inches away from her. 

And that part of him, that was the mark was desperately reaching out to her to complete the connection. As if it knew, and sensed. 

"It's okay if you don't want to be here," Natasha stated, offering comfort in the way she knew how. Offering to take the burden off his shoulders. 

"No, I do."

Natasha nodded once, in understanding, and stepped that little bit closer, offering support in the only way _she_ knew how. 

"You know it will only work if she _isn't Hydra._ I don't think they will give a flying fuck about a lawsuit or not," Clint stated. 

"But what happens then? After she has been set up with everything?" Tony asked.

"We put her to work," Natasha answered, "That's why she was hired in the first place."

"I need help working through the list of potential Doctors to work alongside us more permanently. That's not exactly top secret; she can work with me on that. If she tries anything the Hulk will more than be able to handle it," Bruce offered.

"And we monitor everything else, we watch her closely. If she is Hydra, she might let something slip," Natasha continued.

Steve flinched as ice-cold pokers stabbed at his chest. 

He turned to were Bucky was standing; his cold gaze, all but screaming a warning to tread carefully, as he looked at Natasha. 

Natasha didn't show a visible reaction, at least not one that Steve could see, but he knew she felt that warning, that she heard it in every fibre of her being. 

"Buck," he breathed. 

Bucky turned to look at him, arms crossed, his body to tense, to ready to strike at a moment's notice. The bonds vibrating between them with..._too many feelings_ to accurately pick apart, but it was overwhelming and threatening to choke him. 

Steve pushed back through the bonds, and for the briefest of moments, the two of them squared off in a battle of wills, the air growing thick and heavy until everyone was looking at them. 

The energy was crackling along his skin, looking for an outlet, his pulse racing as he met Bucky's frosty gaze with his own. 

He was reminded too much of the battle on the Helicarrier, where he had battled the Winter Soldier wearing his soulmates face and no recollection of who he was, and what they had shared. 

They had lost their balance, and they were desperately trying to find it again before they tore each other apart even more.

And then like an elastic band, _something_ snapped at them. 

Sharp and cutting, snapping through their bonds too fucking strongly, and breaking the power game that neither had been willing to submit.

Steve swivelled his head round to the screen in surprise, well aware that Bucky was staring to.

Holly wasn't looking up at the camera though, a tight smile graced her lips, and her fists clenched together, but her eyes never left the paperwork. Never indicated that there was anything wrong. 

They weren't even fully there, just a puff of smoke easily blown away, and they would stay that way until _they_ formed the connection, and yet she had still managed to send a surge of power through them. Pulsed energy to snap them out of their silent battle.

She was seven floors below them. 

"What exactly just happened?" Tony asked, his eyes darting between the two of them, "you looked like you were about to tear each other to shreds."

"We were," Bucky growled, "_she_ used the bonds."

"That shouldn't be possible," Bruce stated.

"No, it shouldn't," Steve agreed.

"She is seven floors below you."

"I know," Steve said.

"That would have blown her cover if she were Hydra, surely she would want them to be at each other's throats," Sam said. It was the same argument he had been using for the last four days. Sam was firmly in _her_ not being Hydra camp but agreed with showing caution. 

"We still need to be certain," Natasha stated, "We don't know her. She's loose cannon, and right now _we_ can't afford that risk. She could go to the media; she could go to many people that would want to hurt us."

"We do what we need to do," Steve said.

The jolt of electricity shot through him, and he was all too aware of Bucky leaving the room as the bonds snapped shut behind him. 

Steve sighed.

"This can't be easy for either of you, but we all have to remember if Holly Potter isn't Hydra, isn't the enemy then she is innocent in this. Her having the marks is not her fault," Sam said softly. 

"I know," Steve replied, "I know."

* * *

Two hours. 

Two hours to complete the paperwork and sign the terms and conditions for her employment. 

Two hours for Hill to pass her a new phone and Stark Pad that were to be hers for the duration of her employment, to explain in detail exactly what her new role would actually involve. 

All the while, her mind whirled, never silencing for a minute. 

Holly liked to think she had prepared for every possible outcome in this plan of hers, but she had absolutely _not_ planned to be working alongside her soulmates.

It meant that she would need to adjust her plan, rethink a few steps along the way. 

It was doable; it just meant that she had to be extra cautious.

That she had to shield harder. 

Because even though they hadn't bonded, Holly was very aware of the bonds there, teetering on the edge of her consciousness that felt like magic but not at the same time. If she concentrated on them enough she could see them, red and golden threads twisting together and pulsing in tune to a beat Holly wasn't sure she was privy to. 

She had felt them - flaring to life like angry sparking live wires, that had bit and stung and forced her to dig deeper to shield herself from the overwhelming sense of others crashing through her. 

She hadn't been in the same room as them, and yet Holly had still felt them. 

Just as she knew that if she cast her senses out into the building, she would find them first, before anybody else.

Holly resisted the urge to do just that, as Hill spoke to her. 

"We just have one further thing that we need to go over, and then you will be given the tour."

Hill gestured her to follow, and Holly rose from her seat and followed the woman out of the room. 

Holly wasn't stupid, she had an idea exactly what else they needed to go over, which meant she had little time to prepare herself. 

She reached for the icy depths of her mind with open arms, and let it seep into her pores, into her marrow. Pushing back at the flaming licks of fire that _were_ swirling emotions, and the burning of her marks, until they were shoved so far down, they were buried under layers of ice. 

Holly took a breath. 

She could breathe. 

It was just her Potter Luck, to throw something her way. It had been going to well, this hunt of hers for Hydra. She had gotten the job, though now Holly couldn't help but wonder if it was more down to the marks than anything else. 

She should back away now. 

She shouldn't have taken this job. She really shouldn't have taken the position, except she had to. Needed to. 

To save lives.

She could do this. 

She could pretend to be normal. 

She was fine.

Better than fine. 

Nothing changed.

Holly ignored every instinct that was telling her to run as she followed behind Hill. 

She remained silent as Hill lead her to the lift and up seven floors from the one she was currently on - did that make it the 92nd floor or the 93rd? If she still had a job by the end of the day, Holly was debating whether she should generate a map just to keep track of what rooms were on what floors. 

Not that she had to wait long to find out exactly what was on this particular floor. 

Or at least part of this floor. 

Hill led her to a large room that fell silent the moment they entered. 

A single sweep of her eyes told Holly exactly who was in the room.

The Avengers. 

The universe fucking hated her. 

She had hoped. Really fucking wished that she would have remained enough under the radar to not have anyone look at her too closely. 

Of course the marks on her skin and the realisation that _they_ knew utterly threw that out of the window. 

The only one that she could see was missing was Thor. 

Holly felt somewhat relieved at that. 

She had no idea if the Asgardian would recognise her as a witch, and it was not something _she_ wanted to test. 

Her eyes glanced over each of them. Her mind reeling off everything she had learnt from the files that leaked on the internet. 

Tony Stark. -_Iron Man, genius, inventor. _

Bruce Banner. -_Hulk. Scientist. Several PhDs. _

Clint Barton. -_ Former Shield Agent, Archer, almost inhuman accuracy. _

Natasha Romanoff. -_ Black Widow - former Soviet assassin, former Shield Agent. Lethal._

Sam Wilson, his brown eyes the only one offering any sort of warmth in the way of greeting_._ -_The Falcon fought alongside Captain America in D.C._

She finally fixed onto the two that _mattered._

That mattered and didn't matter all in the same breath. 

Steven Grant Rogers. 

James Buchanan Barnes. 

Opposite to each other. 

Day and night. 

Two sides of the same coin. 

How, how the universe thought that adding her to the mix was a good idea she would never know. Holly wasn't stupid. She knew that the marks represented far more than what _history_ said they represented. 

They didn't mean love. 

Or happily ever after.

The real world wasn't a fairytale.

It wasn't an instant, easy relationship or instant attraction, though Holly was honest enough to admit that both of them were attractive, in that way that could make you forget and stop and stare. 

They were both watching her, _Steve_, with an intensity that threatened to burn her alive, holding her gaze for a fraction longer than necessary and then he exhaled, the tension easing ever so slightly and it felt like his body breathed _mark. Soulmate._ With that exhale. 

James' eyes held a dangerous glint to them, hidden ocean depths that lulled you in with a siren's song, knowing full well the dangers that lay there and not caring for an instant. Yet they burned with just as much power as Steve's did, reminding her far too much of the blue flames that had chosen her name as a champion so many years ago. 

He didn't so much as relax, as Steve did, but tilted his head ever so slightly, curiously, a predator watching, waiting, coiled and ready for action, yet holding himself in that perfect stillness of an ambush predator.

He would strike when _he_ was ready to strike, and Holly doubted that she would be able to see it coming.

And then she felt them. 

Even all the way through the ice she had shrouded herself with. 

Even though _she_ knew they were shielding. 

A tsunami roaring through her, knocking the air out of her lungs. 

Holly stiffened.

And as _they_ both looked at her, and she looked at both of them. 

And for a single heartbeat, everything stilled.

A weight in the air.

A building pressure that slammed against her skin, against her very soul. 

She couldn't breathe.

The brief encounter she had with Steve in the lift had been a tug, not gentle, but not as intense as it could have been.

But together, the two of them.

They were ripping her apart from the inside out. 

Forces, _energy,_ thrashing through her as if her insides and her soul was their own personal playground. 

She couldn't breathe. 

She couldn't breathe. 

She _needed _to breathe.

Holly desperately reached for her shields, reached for the layer of protection she needed to push them back. But they slipped through her fingers as if they were water. Impossible to hold. 

They were inside her. 

Inside her like Voldemort had been when he had possessed her. 

Wave after wave of emotions whipped and ripped through her. Feelings that weren't her own but were drowning her, pulling her under all the same. 

The bonds hadn't formed or developed fully between them. They hadn't had room to grow or flourish, and yet they were impossibly stronger than they should be. As if they had been there for years and this was not _their_ first meeting.

None of them had reached out to strengthen them in any format. 

Hell, she had only become aware of them today.

And yet they were. 

Strong.

Powerful.

Gripping her tighter and tighter. 

Red and golden threads coiled around her, pulsing with every thump of her heart. _Their_ heart. 

Squeezing harder and harder.

So tightly bound that Holly didn't know where her body ended and _theirs_ began, fused together bound by pain, energy, a tightly knotted ball that no one dared unravel. 

A tangled web - and there was no escape. 

She couldn't breathe. 

Oh, god, she couldn't breathe.

Holly clenched her fists tightly together, gritted her teeth and stood her ground. 

She would not bend, she would not _break_.

She had survived too much to lose herself now. 

Holly could see she wasn't the only one struggling. 

She could feel Steve and James as tightly tangled as she was, and it was eating them alive.

She couldn't block them. 

Couldn't shield herself from them. 

So she did the only thing she could. 

She fell. 

She descended into darkness. 

And reached. 

Her magic hummed. 

Her body vibrated.

The chain around her neck, tucked beneath her jumper, the Resurrection Stone warmed against her skin. Hidden out of sight on her right wrist in a wand holster the Elder wand seared. She felt them whispering, _I am here. I am here._ Over and over again.

Her magic reached for them, brushing over them and the boost they sent her way threatened to explode outwards, and something shifted under her skin, crawling into her soul and rose like a burning phoenix or a roaring dragon only visible to her own eyes. It snapped and cut at the _bonds_ of glittering red and gold that were tightening around her. _It_ wrapped itself around her like an amour of teeth and claws and projected icy knives that stabbed anybody who stepped to close. 

Ice filled her veins, power rolled across her skin. 

** _Enough! Back off!_ **

Something snapped shut, a door, a box, Holly didn't know, didn't care, because she could breathe. 

She could breathe, and it was just her. Her and her tight iron grip on _something_ inside of her that she was terrified of letting go.

She inhaled deeply.

She could breathe. She could breathe, and think and...feel just her.

"Shit are you okay?" Someone asked.

Holly blinked in surprise, the room coming back into focus, and both Steve and James were panting, hands gripped around the table hard enough to cause it to splinter and crack. 

Romanoff and Barton were beside them. 

Holly turned to see the concerned brown eyes of Sam Wilson, who was standing close enough to catch her if she fell, but wasn't quite touching her at the same time.

"Can we not do that again in a hurry," she deflected. 

"What the hell was that?" Stark was on his feet, moving towards her. Putting himself between her and _them._

As if to deter whatever threat she may be to them with himself and allow them time to recover.

It said more about him than he probably realised, something that went beyond the image that the public and the media portrayed him as. But Holly knew better than to believe anything that the press said about anyone. Knew better than to listen to gossip and rumours. 

She judged on what she witnessed herself.

"The bonds. It was the bonds," Steve grimaced, through clenched teeth. 

"All three of us in the room together packs a punch," Holly said, well aware that all eyes fixed onto her. 

"Did you know it was going to happen?" Stark snapped. 

Holly snorted, that didn't deserve an answer, not really and she knew when to bite back her tongue. 

"Did you know you were their soulmate?"

Holly fixed her gaze onto Stark, his brown eyes burning fiercely with an iron determination, but a pinch of curiosity in them. As if he couldn't quite work out if she was a threat or something he needed to observe and analyse. 

This time Holly was unable to stay silent, her own irritation biting with every word. 

"Yes, because one automatically assumes that the names marked onto their skin for the last twenty-nine years belong to men," Holly paused, glanced at Steve and James before, "no offence," she turned to look back at Stark, "to men who had supposedly died thirty-five years before they were born."

Stark looked at her, his eyes sweeping over her, taking in every detail, a small smirk creeping across his lips, "You have sass, I like sass."

"That wasn't sass," she sniped back. 

"Oh, I think I might keep you if boy wonders won't." His eyes were twinkling with amusement, and Holly wasn't sure whether she should take that as a sign to run for the hills. 

"I can't imagine why," she deadpanned.

"Oh Baby Spice, what a delight you are."

Holly raised an eyebrow at him, "Baby Spice?"

"You are the youngest out of the three of you, plus your British, it fits."

"Oh no that not what I am questioning, I'm just surprised you are aware of who Baby Spice is."

"It was the 90s I knew all the Spice girls." 

"Seriously, Tony," Banner groaned. 

"Can we get back on point," Hill snapped, "What the hell actually happened?"

"It was the first time all three of us have been in the room together. The first time always hits the hardest," Steve answered, his gaze darting everywhere but her. 

"Three is a magic number, can be found in most religions and is woven throughout history and mythology," Banner supplied.

If only they knew how accurate that was.

"So this was a test?" Holly questioned, crossing her arms and taking a step back, giving her space to move. 

She couldn't fault them for testing whether it was genuine. Not really, but Holly was tired of being tested, her whole life it seemed was one giant test to see if she was ready for somebody else's game plan.

"We had to be certain," Sam said as he cautiously looked at her "Being who they are, they have a lot of enemies, which means steps need to be taken to ensure your safety."

"My safety?" Holly frowned. Why the hell was her safety important?

"Take a seat, we can discuss everything," Stark prompted, waving a hand to a chair. 

Holly eyed them all, nobody was giving anything away, and yet she couldn't help but feel this was an ambush against her. From form the moment she had stepped into the tower, hell even Steve crossing paths with her in the lift. Holly wasn't sure it was one that had gone according to plan, not with how they had all reacted to the bonds, but an ambush never the less. 

It made her hackles rise almost instinctively. 

But if there was one thing she was good at, it was thinking on her feet when the odds were against her.

She didn't need to give an inch, open herself up to them.

This meeting didn't change a goddamn thing as to why she was here in the first place. 

_They_ didn't change a goddamn thing. 

Holly sat down.

The Avengers overall were an intimidating bunch. Each with a skill set that put them firmly in the _lethal_ category. But they were the good guys, and she hadn't done anything that signalled she was a bad guy bent on world domination - which she wasn't. 

She didn't fear them. 

At least not in the way _they_ would expect.

It was Tony Stark that made a move first, cutting through the growing silence, introducing himself and in turn the others. 

He bedazzled and charmed in a way, that made you forget for a moment that he was Iron Man and dangerous. Deflection, defensive, tools Holly knew how to use herself. If all you saw was the charming playboy, then you wouldn't see under the surface, you wouldn't pay closer attention. He would be able to run rings around most of the Wizards she _knew_ back home that considered themselves charming. 

But he had revealed more than perhaps he intended to when he had stepped up to face her. 

Putting himself between her and two of his teammates.

"A contract?"

Holly blinked, her attention focusing back into the room and on what Stark was saying, rather than what his actions were saying. 

"For your protection and ours."

"And then?"

"Then we get you set up with security and ready for the day ahead."

"Just like that?" Holly paused, frowning slightly. "Does everyone know?"

"Only those that need to know," Hill answered.

"You know some would consider it an honour," Stark chimed, taking point from Hill. 

"No offence, I get you saved the world and all, but I'm British and Captain America, doesn't exactly inspire the same kind of patriotism to me as he would an American. Not that I'm not grateful that you all saved the world."

Steve's lips twitched ever so slightly, hardly noticeable if you weren't paying attention, but she was so Holly didn't miss it. 

Holly couldn't feel anything from either of them now, her own shields in place matched with their own.

She brought her attention back onto Hill and Stark who were busy taking it in turns as they explained everything, pushing the contract towards her to allow her to read through. 

The contract itself was fairly straightforward. 

Mentioning things Holly would never consider doing in the Wizarding World let alone the muggle one. 

Informing the Press, the Media, posting on Social Media sites, she wasn't entirely sure she had kept track of the many different ones that the muggles used, but she definitely didn't have accounts for any of them.

She had no interest in becoming a public face for the world to speculate about. Drawing attention to herself was not what she was here to do, and she already had _too_ much focus on her now.

Holly frowned as she reread the same line twice. 

It wasn't just the general public she couldn't tell. 

It was no one. 

Cutting her off from any support network she may have. 

Not that she had to worry too much about that. 

The Avengers would never know if she did discuss it with them, considering that they belonged to a whole different world, but it was beside the point. 

"I'm not allowed to tell anyone, discuss with anyone. No friends, no family," she pointed out, "Yet all of you know."

Silence filled the room.

"The more people that know, the higher the risk of the wrong people finding out. We won't be able to protect you and others that you would tell," Hill answered.

"You are presuming that I need protection, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Holly answered. Who exactly was it they were afraid of the information getting to?

"Against organisation like Hydra?" Stark snorted, "They would use you, to get to us."

_Hydra,_ they more than likely would. Voldemort would have used Steve and James against her in a blink of an eye if he had known who they were, and they had been around then. 

But that fact that Stark mentioned them first was interesting, and something she filed away for later. 

Hydra - she had changed from the person she was the first time their paths crossed. They wouldn't find it so easy the next time they faced each other.

Not that it was easy the first time; they killed her entire team.

She pushed away the doubt that niggled at the back of her mind, how does the saying go, _fool me once shame of you, fool me twice then shame on me._

Holly would be ready to tackle whatever they would throw at her when she finally caught up with them. 

"Anybody you tell, would be at risk of being used to get to you, which in turn would have a chain reaction to get to Steve and Bucky," Sam said softly, trying to sound at least reasonable, "However taking away somebody's support system is ill-advised. Is there anybody we need to worry about knowing about the marks?"

"Like?" Holly asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Parents?"

"No," Holly answered, refusing to expand on exactly when or how they died.

"Any other family?"

"None that I talk to." 

A sharp jolt of pain zapped through her, and Holly flinched as she turned to look at _them_.

"Do any of your friends know?" Steve asked slowly, his gaze fixed onto her. 

Holly hesitated, did she answer truthfully, or did she lie? 

"Three."

"Who are they?"

"I don't think so."

"We can't protect them if we don't know who they are," he pointed out.

"They are protected by nobody knowing who they are, or where they are," Holly countered with a smile. A smile that was all teeth and attitude rather than pleasant and sweet.

Holly was tired of other people thinking they knew what was best for her. Of course, Holly couldn't fault them that, they didn't know who she was, what she was capable of, and if she had her way, they never would. But even so, she couldn't _no_ she wouldn't allow them to think she was a push-over. 

Not to mention she felt sorry for anybody who went after Hermione, Ron and Luna. They were more than equipped in dealing with threats.

"What do they know?" Hill queried.

"They know I am marked, and they know the names, and that's it."

Though Holly was personally beginning to suspect that Luna knew more than she was saying. 

"Do you trust them?"

"With my life."

"That's the thing; it won't just be your life on the line," Hill pointed out.

Holly schooled her features to give nothing away, "How about if my life is ever in danger, you don't save me, and I will rescue myself, and then it negates the problem of me being used against you."

Silence followed her answer, and Holly read over the contract once again as they pondered her words. 

It wasn't binding in the way a magical one was. Sure if she were to break it, the lawsuit that would follow would have consequences, but _she_ wouldn't lose her magic and her life. 

Holly had no intention of breaking it. 

She had no intention of sticking around long enough for it to become a problem. 

This job was for information only. 

If signing it was the only way _she_ would be able to stay and work there, then sign it she would. 

And yet...

As much as Holly understood the logic, the reasoning appreciated it all. It was for both _hers _and _their_ protection.

It didn't stop the light quiver of doubt in her stomach as she saw Steve and James had already signed. Had they hesitated, had they the same flicker of doubt?

Her mind spun around and around like a merry go round.

_She wasn't worthy. _

_She was tainted goods._

_She was a freak._

_She wasn't wanted._

Holly hated herself for giving into those thoughts, to let them whisper in the back of her mind. 

Because it didn't matter. 

She didn't matter. 

Her feelings weren't important.

She wasn't important. 

It was just one more sacrifice she needed to make, and Holly was good at making those kinds of sacrifices, especially if it stopped others from getting hurt.

Holly let out a shallow breath, picked up the pen and signed her name three times on the indicated lines. 

She wasn't significant in this. 

The children, they were who were imperative. 

They mattered. 

Holly looked up, pushing the contracts away from her, and gave a tight smile and a tad of irritation slipping through, "I won't discuss it with my friends who are aware that I am marked, so you don't have to worry about them being a danger."

They looked at her in surprise, all of them, uncertain how to proceed. 

"What's next?"

* * *

Holly had never been more grateful to step behind the safety of her wards at the end of the day. The moment the door snapped shut behind her and the locks clicked back into place she slumped down until her ass hit the floor.

Back to the door.

Knees tucked upwards, making herself as small as she possibly could. 

She rubbed at her chest, it felt tight, too tight, hands wrapping around her and squeezing. 

A jolt of pain shot through her. 

Breathe. 

Deep breath.

In.

And out.

Today had been a cluster fuck. 

A long day.

The tour of the building had lasted two hours; Holly was surprised exactly how much was crammed into the spaces the Avengers occupied of the Tower. Recreational rooms, including a home cinema and pool, a party deck, which Stark used to entertain guests. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Setting up with security had taken its time, as had ensuring she was set up with her phone and Pad and once it had been done Holly was given her marching orders to go home and start the next day afresh. 

Now she was in the safety of her home she could try and make sense of what she was actually feeling. 

Even now Holly could feel it vibrating through her body, her blood, her soul. 

Her magic purred. 

Even the darkness fucking purred. 

Holly leaned back and smacked her head against the door. 

She needed to focus. 

She could handle this.

Holly took a deep breath. 

It didn't change _anything_. 

She was twenty-nine years old. She had stopped believing in fairytales when she was six.

The marks on her _skin_ did not mean, love, acceptance, family and everything she had wanted when she was alone in her cupboard for days at a time. When she was cold, hungry and hurting. 

Before she learnt _once upon a time_ only happened in stories and in the real world, the bad guys usually won. She was no fairytale princess.

Holly wasn't that little girl anymore. 

She was an adult.

She would deal with this, just like she dealt with everything else. Roll with the punches.

And if that didn't work. 

Deny.

Deny.

Deny. 

Holly was the fucking Queen of Denial.

Yet one thing she couldn't deny was the Avengers knew. 

They would be keeping a closer eye on her. 

It made everything more complicated. 

She was fucking cursed. 

Since the moment she had been born. 

Holly had accepted she had been born with her marks, just as she had acknowledged that _they_ had been one more nail in her coffin as to why she was a freak. 

She had pushed the idea of ever meeting them aside. 

She had been doing just fine - until now. 

Her chest tightened in disagreement. 

"Oh, fuck off!" Holly muttered.

She took another breath. 

She had had her five minutes. 

Holly couldn't afford to allow herself any longer. 

"Get it together, and pick yourself off the floor," she whispered. 

She closed her eyes and reached for her Occlumency shields. She submerged herself into the icy depths, letting the coldness fill her and freeze. Shoving everything down and shielding it in layers and layers of ice. Impenetrable.

She had no doubt that by the time all this was over; she was going to need a bigger box. 

But as she opened her eyes, her mind, and her emotions felt calmer. More in control. More focused. 

Safer. 

Safer not to feel, because she had always felt too much. Too much until it became unbearable. Until she couldn't breathe or think, and just acted. 

She controlled her emotions; her emotions did not control her. 

She let out a breath, this one shallower, lighter, more controlled, and pushed herself to her feet and away from the door.

What was it she used to tell herself when she was younger?

_Small but mighty. _

_Brave and unyielding._

Holly's eyes burned and molten fire spread through her veins.

She had work to do tonight, her own files to look over. Krum had sent over his figures, and she needed to look at them, compare the dates - try and find a pattern across the world. 

Before more children went missing. 

Before Hydra did whatever the fuck they were planning to do with those children.

* * *

Bucky's eyes were beginning to hurt as he stared blankly at the bright screen in front of him. He let out a deep sigh that rumbled inside his chest and tried his best to focus. 

He was so _fucking_ tired, but sleep evaded him. 

And not for the usual reasons of familiar nightmares.

He was restless. 

Every part of him. 

_The Soldier._

_The Asset._

Power rippled through him, and that darkest part of himself woke up and pushed its way forward to the front of his mind before Bucky could even _think_ about pushing it back. 

The predator.

His entire body hyperaware of everything around him. The vibrations in the air, the slightest change in scent, the approaching footsteps that _he_ shouldn't be able to hear, but thanks to the serum he was, thanks to the _Soldier_ he could. 

But it wasn't paying too much attention to the outside, no; its focus firmly fixed on the _bonds_. 

Those metaphysical threads of red and gold that connected him to his marks. 

Every part of him was fixed on _her_, even parts he wished weren't, had been since she had walked out of the room earlier that day after signing the contract. 

"Bucky?"

"_Don't_," he growled in warning. 

His heart was pounding; he could feel his pulse under his skin as though it was a live wire.

He could feel Steve's uncertainty as though it was his own, could feel uneasiness in his stomach, his breath catching even though _he_ was breathing just fine. 

"Bucky."

His name was said softer this time, quieter, and then it wasn't uncertainty he felt it was warmth.

Sitting by a bonfire kind of warmth, while roasting marshmallows. It was love, unconditional love, acceptance, strength, and everything _he_ didn't deserve. Not with how red his hands were. Not with how black his soul was. 

Bucky wanted to soak it up, to stay like that forever, but he couldn't. _They_ couldn't. 

Not when he didn't trust himself. 

Not when it wasn't safe. 

Bucky pulled away, untangled himself, pushing with the coldness that was _the Soldier_ and hated himself just a little more when Steve flinched in response. 

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Steve said softly, "I shouldn't have pushed."

Bucky stared at him, even now, with the uncertainty of everything between them; Steve hadn't stopped being his friend. 

He hadn't stopped being Steve's friend. 

Even if it was _complicated._

"What rattled the cage?"

"We shouldn't have done that," he answered instead. 

Steve faltered for a moment, uncertainty creeping back in, right down to his most subtle movements. 

Movements that Bucky knew by heart. 

"Done what?"

Bucky threw him a look, not able to hide the disappointment from showing. 

"Today. The ambush. The contract. Everything," Bucky answered, flicking a tongue over his bottom lip, "It was a mistake. We should have handled it better. We should have done it differently."

* * *

The universe hummed. 

Tiny vibrations trickled over him as the fabric of the universe rippled. 

He could taste the power on his tongue.

He could feel the familiar icy caress against his soul...calling him. 

His mind stretched and reached, grasping at the whispering threads and promise of sweet _death_. 

He could feel _her._

How long had it been since he had felt her presence in the universe? 

Too long. 

Where had she been?

Why had she hidden from him?

He had searched and searched. He had slaughtered and conquered in her name and still she had not come to him, and now...now _he_ could feel her. 

As if she was just waking up.

Yet it was different. 

There was a searing heat that had never been there before; his _love_ had always been cold, cold and darkness...soothing but never forgiving. 

But the heat burned at his skin.

Power. 

Different from what he remembered, new to him yet ancient, he could feel it in the fabric of the universe a pulsing beat. 

One he did not recognise but felt all the same. 

It changed the melody. It changed _her_ melody.

It shrouded her from his sight. He could not see _her_.

The universe hummed, but it hummed a different song. 

What had happened to his _love? _

What had caused this change?

He frowned, _soon my love,_ he would find her soon. He would discover what had happened, why _she_ had disappeared, and what this new aberration was and how it was connected to his love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a delay with the next chapter. I have quite a busy week this coming week, so how much time I have to spend on writing and editing will be limited, though I could be surprised. So please expect the next chapter the following weekend.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, bookmarked, subscribed and kudos. 
> 
> I hope you continue to enjoy the story. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 4:-**

Holly woke hunched over the table, parchment stuck to her face and a kink in her neck. 

Wearily she groaned as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes, ran a hand through her hair, grimacing at the knots and the fuzzy feeling on her teeth. 

She had done it again. 

Fallen asleep as she worked into the night over the many notes and files she had gathered since she had started this case.

Holly was pretty sure she had the damn things memorised by now, but that still didn't stop her from going through them with a fine-tooth comb looking for that all-important key that would give her some insight into the wild chaotic mess that was Hydra. 

She just hoped that working at the Avengers Tower wasn't a complete bust, all things considering. 

A glance at the clock on the wall had her groaning, half-four. She remembered seeing half-one, but her eyes had started getting blurry at that point. 

By her estimation, she had a couple of hours sleep, and getting more sleep now that she was awake was an impossibility she didn't want to tackle. 

Not that she slept comfortably anymore. 

Nightmares had plagued her for most of her life, but they had gotten considerably worse since Hydra - since her time with them. 

**Don't think about it.**

Holly pushed the thoughts of them under the multiple layers of ice her mind used to protect itself until she could shove them into the school trunk that lay under it. 

Holly was sure if it were possible neon lights would be shinning over that box of 'things not to think about it'. It rattled as her mind brushed across it and she quickly pulled away. 

She kneaded the side of her neck as she pushed herself to her feet. Stretching and working out the kinks. 

Sleep was pointless now.

She glanced at the files again. Krum's information had been enlightening and together with what she had from cases in Britain, Ireland, America, Asia and the Middle East, she was starting to see a pattern forming. Holly couldn't say it made sense, but it was giving her the bigger picture to look at which was a step in the right direction of finding the puzzle pieces she needed.

The most recent cases were from three months ago, and Holly could see that one of those missing children was from a neighbourhood in New York City. Her own neighbourhood where she had decided to set up her base.

Hell's Kitchen. 

Thank Merlin Andromeda Tonks had passed on that little bit of information, along with a copy of the police-file. It was thin at best, but it was a beginning that she could expand on. Usually, it was like pulling teeth to get information out of the muggle-police. 

She made a mental note to go over there after work one day this week when she had the chance before flicking her wand at the files. Everything started to neatly arrange themselves before floating to her draw that sealed shut as soon as the last piece of paper settled. 

Another flick and the copper kettle on the hob started hissing as the water bubbled and boiled, all the while _her_ favourite mug lifted from the shelf and a tea bag joined it.

Another two flicks had various ingredients floating down from her cupboards, along with bowls, baking trays and other delights she would need to start baking. 

She found baking therapeutic; it was normal and allowed her to distress from the whirling state that her mind seemed to have permanently settled into. It allowed her to switch off, just for an hour or so. 

Besides, bringing baked goods to work was acceptable, and earned you brownie points, or at least that was what she had heard. 

She loved this kind of magic the best, the simple beautiful things it was able to do, that she had never had the time to learn while being at Hogwarts. 

But after the war, she had taken the time she needed to learn off Mrs Weasley who was a goddess when it came to hearth and home magic. 

Confident that her charms would do what they needed to do, Holly left the main room and made her way towards the bathroom, itching for a shower and a clean set of clothes. 

Bathing and showering were her one few delights and something she treasured as a way to relax her. She always found water soothing. 

The Dursleys had always restricted how long she spent in the bathroom, and it was never as much time as she had craved. 

It was why when it came to the bathroom, a few charms and spells had quickly transformed it into a style suited to an expensive hotel suite rather than her apartment.

Grabbing a towel from the small cabinet, Holly switched the water on. 

Shower. Tea. Baking. Work. 

A straightforward plan, but one that soothed her mind for a moment, before she stripped and stepped into the shower. 

Her skin prickling as soon as the hot, almost boiling, water hit her. 

Holly closed her eyes as she lathered up the shampoo on her hands and started scrubbing at her hair. 

She would tackle today with her head raised and her shoulders back. She wouldn't think about Soulmarks, and contracts, she would be, ordinary. 

Do her job. 

In and out. 

Nothing else.

* * *

Her nose twitched as the smell of freshly baked goods breezed through the air. 

Causing more than a few heads to lift up from their work stations as the elevator doors slid open. 

Her eyes darted to them as Potter stepped off the elevator onto the main operations floor. Dressed in similar clothing she had worn yesterday with the exception of a woolly jumper that was a deep maroon colour, bar the gold numbering on number 7. 

Personal, meaning something only to Potter she filed away that little note for later. Her hair was tied back into a single braid, but a few strands had managed to work themselves free. 

She was carrying a box. 

A large box that her nose was telling her was the cause of the smell.

"Morning," Potter greeted with a smile that was too chirpy for seven-thirty in the morning. 

"Please tell me you aren't one of those happy morning people?" Maria asked, her brow creasing at the woman.

"No, not usually, but I'm on my fourth cup of tea," Potter answered, her smile turning into a grin. 

Maria filed that little piece of information away. One never knew when the small details would become necessary. 

"What's in the box?"

"Isn't that a line from the film Seven?"

Maria resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead threw Potter a cold look that used to have Shield Agents jumping to follow orders. 

Potter didn't even flinch. Instead, her grin widened and her eyes danced with amusement. 

Potter wasn't easily intimidated, and Maria couldn't help but find herself speculating on how she and Fury would have interacted. Stark, Rogers, even Barton and Romanoff had tested the waters with the man on more than one occasion, and she had had to listen to many grumbling complaints of stubborn headed mules, but they had always risen to the challenge when needed. She had a feeling that Potter would fall into a category that Fury reserved for Thor. 

Tread cautiously. 

Though Maria couldn't think for the life of her, one reason why she felt that. 

On the surface, Potter looked boring, and Maria would have hired her with or without the marks on her skin, but it was _those_ marks that had her showing some level of interest because they made absolutely no sense with the woman standing in front of her. 

Everything they were taught about soulmarks was they were world-changers. Potter baked, that didn't exactly scream world-changer in the way that history said they would. 

Something didn't add up that had her instincts twitching and her mind turning over every piece of information she had on Potter. 

"Cinnamon rolls, Danishes, and muffins," Potter answered. 

Maria couldn't lie and say her mouth didn't water a little at the mention of cinnamon rolls. 

As if sensing her desire, Potter opened the box lid and held out the box for her. 

She narrowed her eyes, evaluating Potter closely as she chose her next words carefully. 

"I'm not easily bribed."

"I didn't say you were, but they are freshly baked goods, and something tells me, they will be gone in seconds the moment I put them on the kitchen counter."

True.

Maria picked a cinnamon roll up and took a bite. An explosion of flavours burst to life in her mouth, and a groan threatened to escape, but she quickly quietened it, by taking another small bite. 

Potter grinned, "I will go put them into the kitchen, and there is enough for everyone so, help yourself."

Maria watched her go as she took another bite. 

She wouldn't complain if Potter brought freshly baked goods in regularly, not if how the cinnamon roll tasted was anything to go by, and from a glance at the small kitchen area that Stark had purposely built for her and those who worked under her, she wouldn't be the only one. 

"Cinnamon roll?"

Maria turned to face Romanoff; the redhead raised an eyebrow at her as she came close.

"I'm allowed one weakness, and they are the best I have tasted," Maria shrugged. 

"What do you make of her?" Romanoff asked. 

"She's hiding," Maria answered as she finished her last bite.

"That was my impression of her."

Maria met Romanoff's eyes, looking down at the woman who was only slightly smaller than her. 

"I'm not going to ask if you are going to look into it."

"That's because you already know my answer."

"Is it because of the marks?"

Romanoff tilted her head to the side, her eyes sweeping over Potter who was walking back towards them, "In part. I will protect Steve and Barnes no matter the cost, but something...just doesn't add up with her. She is a puzzle, and I don't think we have all the pieces."

"Let me know what you find."

Romanoff shot her a look, before nodding her head at Potter in the way of greeting. 

"Steve and I will be out of the Tower all day. Call if something comes up," Romanoff said before she walked towards the kitchen.

Maria caught the slight stiffening in Potter's shoulders at the mention of Rogers before she forced herself to relax. Maria filed it away for later analysing. 

She had no doubt that Romanoff would look further into Potter, and she had no doubt that if the woman found anything, unless it was a direct threat to Rogers and Barnes, that she would keep it to herself. The woman hoarded information and secrets like gold and had only ever really given information up to Fury and Coulson without prompting. 

Maria inwardly sighed, she needed to contact Coulson, have him on the lookout for any Hydra activity, and any information they may have already stumbled across. She had no doubt dealing with the fallout of that grand revelation when Shields path crossed with the Avengers was going to be...complicated. 

They had all mourned his loss. 

While she was at it, she may even reach out to Fury, the man was in the wind, but that didn't mean he wasn't paying close attention to what the world was doing, or the undercurrents that governed it. 

"Where do you need me today?" Potter asked.

"You will be working with Banner today; he is down in his lab," she answered. 

Maria could almost see the relief oozing off Potter as she gave her the assignment. Potter had so far been good at not giving anything away from what she was feeling, only slipping up once and twice, but it seemed that keeping her distance from Rogers and Barnes was something Potter wanted. 

Maria could accommodate that for the time being. Let everyone get used to being in the same building first.

Of course if something came up, then her hands would be tied. The whole reason she had hired Potter was to be extra eyes, ears and hands when needed. 

"I will head there now."

"As a warning Potter, tread carefully with Banner, we have protocols in place and Banner's control is incredible, but should he show any signs of the Hulk coming out, you get the hell out of the lab."

Green eyes locked with hers, Maria couldn't see the expected fear in them. Potter's instead lightened with various emotions ranging from understanding and acceptance. 

Point to Potter.

She didn't have many people working for her, ten in total with the new recruits, but Potter was the first to not show open fear when it came to Banner. 

"I will keep the warning in mind," Potter answered slowly, before returning to the kitchen, grabbing a single plate and placing two Danishes on it. 

Maria tracked the woman's movement as she moved away from the main operations room, barely glancing at the screens that were lit up with information as she walked to the elevator. 

Romanoff was right, Potter was a puzzle, but one she wouldn't solve in a day. 

Instead, she turned her attention back to the screens, "Jarvis have we found any energy signatures that are standing out at the possible locations?"

"No, Ms Hill, though I will continue to monitor the city."

It would be too easy if they found something straight away, Hydra had hidden with Shield for seventy years they weren't going to make anything easy for them now just because the rest of the world knew they were still out there. 

They just had to keep looking. 

* * *

Holly stepped off the lift, carefully balancing the plate and her Stark Pad.

A hissing sound echoed loudly in her ears, causing Holly to wince the moment she stepped through the doors. 

Banner's lab was four floors above the main operations floor and one below the specially designed medical wing. 

Her skin prickled as her senses stretched out, pushing back at the invading whirlwind of..._noise. _White noise, if white noise could ever be a physical force. 

Not magic.

Technology. 

Technology gave off an entirely different sensation compared to magic. Magic was like breathing, woven into the very fabric of the world, the universe, it was everything and anything. _Technology_ was...different. It came from the outside, and while it at times could connect to that living, breathing force that was magic and it could produce its own beautiful feats of wonder, technology was artificial. Man-made, or alien made. 

But that didn't mean that _it_ didn't give off its own frequencies. 

Like she could hear, feel and see the energy it gave off but she couldn't quite understand it, couldn't quite interpreter the signal or form the connection.

Dr Banner's lab was full of machines buzzing with activity.

Holly hadn't a clue what any of them did, besides the obvious laptops.

Hermione would have loved it.

How the Wizarding World could ever think muggles were beneath them, she would never understand.

She soaked in the scene before her, pristine clean work-stations, various machines, giant screens that had multiple images and things on them, until her eyes finally stopped at a man, hunched over a microscope.

"Dr Banner?"

He looked up at her in surprise.

"Sorry to interrupt. Hill said I was working with you today," she said uncertainly, "I come bearing gifts. I hope you like Danishes."

She lifted the plate in her hand slightly.

He blinked at her, his eyes widened as he took off his glasses and rubbed at them absently. 

"Of course, forgive me, I was..."

"Lost in work?"

He gave her a sheepish smile as he put his glasses back on. 

"Yes, exactly. And I do, um, like Danishes that is."

Holly smiled at him; put the plate down on the only clear workspace the lab seemed to have. 

"Can I get you anything before we start?" Holly asked he _looked_ a little haggard in her opinion, his salt and pepper hair long and sticking up at odd angles, not that she could ever judge someone on unruly hair. 

"No, no, thank you. There is a small kitchen on the left if you want to make yourself a drink though."

"I will just get a glass of water. Thank you. Any particular rules about the lab I should know about?" Holly queried as she walked over to where he had indicated. 

He gave her a tired smile.

"No, I will go over all the machines with you and when to avoid them. Food near the machines isn't advised, though the workspace I have cleared will be fine."

Holly smiled at him as she moved over to the workspace she had already placed the plate down. 

"You didn't have to go to any trouble."

"It was no trouble; I usually have my notes spread out there when I am working on anything particular."

Holly sat down, picked up one of the Danishes and took a bite as Banner continued. 

"I won't be overwhelming you. I know Maria has put you here mostly to ensure the medical wing is well stocked and to run background checks on potential Doctors and nurses we want to try and get to work here."

"I think I can manage that," Holly said softly, "So are you allowed to tell me what you are working on, or is that something I'm not supposed to know yet?"

She took another bite of her Danish.

"No, no, it's fine," Banner started, running a hand through his hair salt and pepper hair, "It's not anything particularly interesting. Just looking at the compounds of Extremis on a more molecular level."

"Extremis?"

She took another bite and chewed slowly. 

"It rewrites the human DNA - has been used most recently in a bastardised version of the super-solder serum - with less than pleasant side effects. It is somewhat unstable."

Holly wrinkled her nose, "Sounds complicated." She put the last mouthful of Danish into her mouth, rose from her seat and moved back to the small sink to rinse her hands.

"Not a fan of science?"

"My Professor hated me," Holly answered with a shrug as she dried her hands on paper towels. Potions was as close to a form of science that she had gotten to once she left primary school, "I found the subject fascinating - but six years with the same teacher whose methods were more mockery than actually teaching and it eventually wears you down."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's in the past. Besides I was more accidental explosions than genetic manipulation."

She grinned as she sat back down.

"How do you get accidental explosions?"

"It's a lot easier than you think. Like did you know microwaving foil equals fire?" She joked.

"That I did know," Banner replied, looking around his lab nervously, "Perhaps I should point out where the fire extinguishers are."

Holly smiled, "Oh, don't worry; my explosions are all deliberate now." 

"That isn't exactly comforting."

Holly chuckled, as she switched on the Stark Pad and signed on as she had been instructed to. 

Holly studied the scientist in front of her as she waited for her Pad to load everything up. He looked tired; tired in the way that Remus looked tired after a full moon.

She wasn't about to compare transforming into the Hulk as the same as changing into a werewolf, but Holly couldn't help but wonder whether the transformation itself had the same physical strain on the body. Banner was only eleven years older than her and yet he looked older. Remus had looked older than he actually was. 

There were other similarities that she could see between the two men, both intelligent and passionate about sharing their wisdom in the world, and did it in a way that made you want to learn rather than feeling like a lecture. Banner had so far not treated her as though she was stupid despite not having the background in his chosen fields. 

Instead, he set her mind alight with questions and inquisitiveness about the muggle world and how far their science had reached. 

"So tell me Dr Banner, what exactly are you looking for and who exactly do we need?"

"An actual _Doctor_ would be useful."

"Aren't you?"

"I have seven PHDs, and I know biology and human biology. But I didn't go down the route of _Medical_ Doctor. Despite some of my solitary days offering aid to those that needed it," the man answered, pushing his glasses up on his nose. 

He continued, "I can look at chemical compounds; look at the effects on a molecular level. I have an understanding of pathogens. But medically, I can treat minor injuries. You have a bullet in you; _you_ do not want me digging it out of you. I'm not a trained surgeon."

"So we are looking for trauma team?" Her head tilted to the side as she scanned through the list Banner had already started putting together, names and specialities listed alongside. 

She clicked on one name and their file opened, giving her access to even more information that she had been anticipating. 

Was this what it was like living in the muggle world, information, personal and secretive stuff so readily available at the touch of a button about each other. 

"For now, yes. Those trained to deal with the type of injuries that we could sustain. We can find specialists and get to them if we need to, but a trauma team on hand would be useful."

Holly tapped away on her Pad. 

"What about anyone medically trained in the field?"

Banner gave her a look, "I don't think we have thought about that, at least not yet. Mind you who would be crazy enough to sign up? When we deal with alien invasions?

Holly smiled slightly, "The world is full of all sorts. Are there any names that stand out to you? I can set up a triage system for those who you need immediately and permanently on hand. To those that would be willing to work with you on retainer while still having their jobs at their chosen hospitals."

"Not that I can think of, on the top of my head, I have worked through the list for the last few weeks, but I can't say who would be a good fit."

"Not to worry," Holly said, "I will hopefully be able to narrow it down, avoiding those that have any red flags."

Holly randomly picked a name of the list and loaded their file. 

"Right, so the first name is Doctor Fredrick Dawson. Huh, Doctor Dawson is currently working in New York at Metro-General Hospital, so he's a local. Means moving him to New York won't be an issue as he's already here." Holly paused, "That's one less hurdle to tackle if we want him to join the team."

Holly could feel Banner looking at her, so looked up at him and met her gaze with his own.

"What?" she asked softly.

After some time he spoke, though Holly could hear the restraint in his voice, "How are you?"

"I'm fine thank you."

"I meant after yesterday."

Holly grimaced, "I know you did. Honestly, I am fine, I would rather just _not._ You know?"

"I know the contract may seem as if you are being cut off from them, but that is not its intention."

Holly stiffened her breath catching ever so slightly. Her heart speeding up ever so slightly. 

Her hands felt clammy, and the knots that had settled into her stomach wiggled and wormed and tightened.

Her throat felt dry, but she forced the words out, "It doesn't really matter does it? It doesn't change anything. The paper is signed; I would rather just get on with my job unless me working here is going to cause problems."

"You working here isn't going to cause problems," he assured. 

"Okay," Holly answered, turning her attention back to the screen. "Jarvis can you pull up Doctor Dawson's finances, and social media. We are looking for anything that requires a closer look."

"Of course Ms Potter."

Holly pushed away from the thought of the marks that floated to the surface; she didn't need to think about them. 

She was just here to do a job.

Nothing else. 

* * *

Bruce watched her. 

Sitting opposite him, she took a sip of her drink her brow furrowed as she focused her attention on the Stark Pad in her hands. They had already spent the morning working on the list of potential Medical Staff he had suggested. Throwing her ideas into the mix of potential candidates as she searched into their backgrounds with Jarvis and looked for things he wouldn't have had the patience to take note of. 

So far, she had found three affairs, one drinking problem and one Doctor who owed a substantial amount of money to less than savoury people. 

Bruce prided himself of having a good understanding of human nature. He had to over the years since the lab accident. He had learnt to read the situations he was in, in case anything set him off.

He couldn't afford to not understand human nature.

To not see the potential hurdles that could trigger him. 

He couldn't afford to lose control for a second. 

From what he was observing Holly Potter was meticulous and focused, yet there was something under the surface that shone through when she smiled slightly, green eyes dancing with amusement as she bantered with him, it was light and soft-hearted, more poking fun at herself than anything else. 

She was a conundrum.

He had thought by now that she would have directed her questions towards Steve or Barnes, but she had surprised him. 

She hadn't asked one. 

Had visibly tensed when he broached the subject. And that reaction told him more than she perhaps realised.

Instead, her questions were about the various machines within the lab. Green eyes shining with delight as she absorbed his explanations and asked yet more questions. 

She had taken an interest in what he was working on, but Bruce could see it was from the angle of an untapped passion for understanding the world around her. Whoever had taught her and neglected to fan those sparks of a curious mind into flames, and Bruce couldn't help but wonder what if they had done so, would Holly Potter's name be amongst the world changers of scientists.

But the real thing that he found peculiar was, despite the alertness of the surroundings she had, being aware when one of the Stark scientists poked their heads through his doors before even he was aware of them, she was the first person outside of the Avengers that knew who he was and treated him normally. 

As if she wasn't in danger every second, she was in his presence. There was no fear, no tensed coiled stance that she had shown visibly yesterday when she had stepped into the meeting room with them all. 

Though Bruce supposed, he couldn't blame her. She had acted like a cornered animal though still retained enough control not to strike out at them.

But not only was she relaxed around him, but the Hulk was also relaxed around her. He didn't so much as twitch when she came into his personal space to hand him his green tea. He had watched through angry green eyes curiously before something seemed to soothe the rage inside of him ever so slightly for the Hulk to fall back without a fight into the corners of his subconscious. 

Bruce found the whole thing oddly unnerving. 

Comforting, yet unnerving all the same because the Hulk was never soothed. Was always pressing along his conscious thought, fighting for dominance and control. 

"What about Doctor Helen Cho?" Holly asked suddenly, looking up at him. Bruce felt the intense weight of her eyes pressing along his skin, before she continued, "She's a world-renowned geneticist and the leader of the U-Gin, so it wouldn't be full time, but she could be on a retainer."

"I-um, remind me again what her work was?" he replied, removing his glasses to wipe them clean. 

"From what little I can understand, she had developed the Regeneration Cradle, which can heal wounds by grafting a simulacrum organic tissue to the patient and having its bond to the patient's cells."

"Synthetic tissue," he said, as he found the file on his device. He remembered the fascination he had felt when he had first read the paper explaining the method. 

It would change the face of medicine. Provided it could be made on a large scale and disrupted evenly across the world. 

Bruce knew it would be next to impossible because creating the devices would cost a lot, and those involved in their production would want to make a profit. Something he doubted Dr Cho would have much control over if it ever reached that point.

"Reach out, to her. The worst she can do is say no," Bruce added with a frown. 

"I am already drafting the email now, which should be ready for you to check over and send after lunch."

Bruce blinked in surprise. 

"Why don't we stop for lunch, we have been checking over the list for the last four hours, and the medical professions say you need to take regular breaks from looking at screens, I think we are well overdue."

"They do?" Holly asked, with a frown, her eyebrows squished together as her head tilted to the side, and her lips pressed together. 

"Umm, yes they do. Have you never heard that before?"

"No, not really. But then while I can use technology, it doesn't rule my life like it seems to for most people."

"That is oddly refreshing in this day and age. We are very dependent creatures on technology."

Holly gave him a slight smile, "It's not all bad, and I'm certainly not against it, but it doesn't rule me either."

"You still need to take that break."

"Right, you are Doctor Banner."

"It's Bruce, you can call me Bruce."

"In that case, you can call me Holly."

"I can do that," he agreed, returning her smile with one of his own. 

Yes, Holly Potter was a conundrum. An interesting one, but a puzzle never the less.

* * *

Steve watched the droplets of rain splash against the window. Despite the dreary grey weather, the view from the window was still beautiful and had him almost wishing that he had brought his sketch pad with him. 

But he wasn't there to indulge his artistic desires, he wouldn't waste the precious time he had. 

"What's wrong?"

He turned to look down at Peggy who was sitting comfortably in her chair next to her bed, even as frail as she was right now, Steve couldn't help but see her for how she was. 

Strong and fierce. 

"What makes you think anything is wrong?"

"Because I know you, Steve."

He made a little huff of agreement, moving away from the window and sitting down in the chair opposite Peggy. He had made monthly trips ever since his first visit, their talks about various things when Peggy had the energy to do so. Some visits he just talked, while she smiled and nodded, but he could see in her eyes she wasn't entirely sure what they were talking about. 

Other visits involved him listening as she spoke about her life, her life that had continued after his crash into the ice. 

"Your jaw ticks when you are thinking too hard, did you know that? It gives you away. You should work on that."

He smiled tightly, "I will do that."

He leaned forward, holding his hands together, fingers crossing as he rested them on his knee.

"Are you going to tell me what is wrong?"

"I just have a lot on my mind."

"You always did like to take on the weight of the world onto your shoulders."

"It's complicated," he countered, rubbing a hand across his chin. And it was, complicated. 

"Steve."

He met her gaze, the way she said his name, the same way she had said it so many years ago. It would be so easy to just pour it all out, Peggy had always had a way of getting to the heart of a problem and while talking to her had left him tongue-tied more often than not, he still ended up telling her more than he told other people. 

"Ah, Bucky," Peggy guessed, understanding filling her eyes. 

"What makes you say that?"

"You always get a certain look in your eyes."

"Peggy..."

She waved him to be quiet, "No, you have nothing to feel guilty about. I know how we felt about each other, but I also know that Bucky had your heart long before you met me."

He sighed, "It's not just Bucky, not anymore."

Peggy frowned at him. 

"You've met someone else?"

"Not exactly," he muttered, dropping his eyes from hers. 

"You know my only regret is that you didn't get to live your life, Steve. I lived mine, and it was a good life. Challenging, hard, but good," Peggy said softly, her hand reaching for his and resting lightly on top of them. 

"You have been given a second chance, don't waste it."

"I don't know what to do," he admitted, his shoulders sagged. He didn't know what to do, and he was always supposed to know what to do. 

"You can't plan for everything. Life is meant to be uncertain; it's part of the fun."

Steve swallowed slowly. 

He wasn't sure he could silence his mind long enough to not plan. 

Bucky, Holly. Soulmarks. Underneath everything else they were there, spinning away and he wasn't sure he could stop it. Even as he planned for Hydra, they were there scratching away at his defences. 

He wanted things to go back to how they were with Bucky. 

He didn't know what he wanted with or how to handle Holly. 

"Steve?"

Steve snapped his head up to look at Peggy, recognising the change in her tone almost instantly, and his gut tightened and twisted. 

She was looking at him with wide bewildered eyes. 

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, pushed back the croak that threatened to break through and smiled. 

"Hello, Peggy."

"You came back."

He could feel his eyes burn slightly, "I couldn't leave my best girl. It would be rude to keep her waiting any longer."

Peggy's smile widened, brightening up her whole face. 

"I missed you."

He smiled and gripped her hand in his. 

Listening to her complain about Colonel Phillips and the higher-ups. 

She had good days and bad days, and sometimes during his visits she could give him such insightful wisdom that he didn't always realise he needed until he heard it, before reverting back to lost days and forgotten memories. 

It was heartbreaking to watch. 

Heartbreaking to see a disease eating away at a person who had been so full of life so strong and courageous and he was absolutely powerless to stop it. 

He stayed until the nurses came to tell him she needed her medication and rest.

* * *

Holly silently hummed to herself as she worked through the various boxes of new medical supplies that had arrived just after lunch. 

Bruce had been required to sign for them before he had disappeared to search for Tony Stark for whatever particular reason Tony Stark required him, leaving Holly to her own devices in checking off the ordered items, restocking the shelves in the medical wing and correctly storing whatever wasn't needed straight away.

She ignored the itch at the back of her mind about being in the medical wing. Ignored the memories stirring. 

Instead she focused on the methodical mundane task that soothed her tired mind and allowed her not to think. The sheer amount of information that she had processed so far was overwhelming. 

And it was only her second day. 

Well technically first once you got past all the complicated mess that had happened yesterday which resulted in little work being done. 

Holly had no doubt in her mind that it was only going to get more intense. 

Tucked away with Bruce for the day was a welcome relief, allowing her the time she needed to get her bearings.

She wasn't sure it had been deliberate or whether by chance that her first task had kept her in the medical wing for most of the day, but besides a brief forty-five-minute lunch, trips to the bathroom and teas being made her company consisted of the Bruce alone. 

Despite his shy nature, Holly could see he was passionate about his chosen fields and was patient enough to explain things to her. Not that Holly had a clue about half of the things he discussed, though she had come to the general conclusion that gamma radiation was to be avoided. 

As much as she had kept up to date with the muggle world, Holly was still miles behind when it came to understanding science. 

Magic, magic was her bread and butter. 

It was the air she breathed. 

But even though _she_ didn't fully understand it, Bruce made it exciting and got her mind working in all sorts of directions and asking questions. 

Holly found herself relaxing, just a little around him. 

It didn't stop the glances he directed at her that was filled with curiosity, caution and concern. 

Holly wasn't sure why he was concerned. She had signed the contract, and as far as she was aware, that ended the situation. 

The less she thought about it, the better.

But he didn't ask, besides voicing his one thought that morning. 

Holly sighed. 

She had been on her own for such a long time, had avoided connecting with people by choice as she had hunted in the shadows for Hydra and that now Holly was back in the light working with people again, part of a team, as much as _she_ could be, she was finding herself overwhelmed. That was all. 

Made even worse by the fact she was very aware of _them._

She wasn't here to make friends...she could be a part of them and still keep her distance. 

She was here for information. 

She was here for her mission. 

She was here for Hydra. 

Holly couldn't forget that, not if she intended to obliterate the organisation into a thousand different pieces. 

Everyone forgot you were supposed to burn the necks after chopping off the heads. It would stop them from growing back. 

Until you found the one head that mattered. 

The head that was immortal. 

Thankfully she had experience in killing things that didn't have the decency in staying dead.

So she would simply have to stamp everything down. 

Keep her distance; avoid forming the connections that a part of her was clearly pining for.

Just do her job. 

Help that way. 

In and out. 

"You're not Banner."

_"What the fuck!"_ the words ripped out of Holly's mouth instinctively, as she spun on her heels and launched the Pad in her hands at the intruder, allowing her hands-free to reach her wand. 

It took every ounce of willpower she had to wrestle with the urge to reach for it. The purr of the Elder wand whispering in her mind, _I am here. I am here. Use me._

Every ounce of strength she had not to have it in her hands and firing spells off before her conscious caught up with her. 

Her pulse was racing, and all she could hear was the pounding of her heart, her eyes narrowing at her target as she sized him up.

He dodged the Pad, and the device hit the wall with a sickening crack, and Holly couldn't help but mentally grimace as it fell to the ground screen cracked. 

Black jeans, black long-sleeved t-shirt, shoulder-length dark hair that was longer than strictly fashionable in the muggle world, framing a strong jaw. Her eyes trailed over the rest of him.

James Barnes was physically intimidating for a muggle.

She looked up and found blue eyes looking down at her. Their gazes locked and Holly could see amusement sparkling in them. His lips turned upwards ever so slightly as he recognised the evaluation and her attention. 

The hair on the back of her neck rising.

Her stomach dropped.

_Fuck_.

The universe really liked fucking with her. 

_James Barnes_ was standing right in front of her. 

James Barnes, who hadn't said a word to her yesterday while she had been in the same room as him signing a contract, was now right in front of her. 

Holly wanted to turn and run in the opposite direction.

"Sorry," he said, taking a step back. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me," she all but growled out, more in anger at herself than at _him._

Easy Potter, take a breath. Ignore it. Ignore it, and it will go away. 

He blinked at her a couple of times, clearly surprised, before he bent down and picked up her broken Pad. 

Holly grimaced again. 

Damn it! She had only had the blasted thing a day.

"I was looking for Banner."

"He's not here."

His eyes trailed over her, as he rose, evaluating _her_ just as she had him, his own attention pressing along her skin. Holly raised her eyebrows challengingly at him, and threw him a look that conveyed '_I'm not impressed'._

"I can see that. You not being Banner," he answered, with a slightly upward turn of his lips, "I will come back."

Holly tilted her head, as he placed her Pad on one of the sides, she spotted the blood on the screen, and her stomach twisted ever so slightly. 

Well wasn't she a bitch, of course, there was a logical explanation of why he came looking for Banner in the medical wing, her instinctive desire to help another pushed itself forward and Holly was speaking before her mind could catch up.

"Wait."

He paused and looked back at her. 

"You're bleeding. You came here looking for Bruce, I have some basic training, provided it's minor," Holly nodded towards his hand, "I will be able to have a look and at least bind it."

"Smashed a glass, it's got some pieces in it."

Holly blinked, "Well, you're in luck. I'm an expert of pulling glass out of myself, but I will get Jarvis to let Bruce know so he can double-check everything if that's okay."

He inclined his head with the barest of nods. 

"Take a seat."

Holly turned on her heels and took the few moments to gather what she needed to still her racing heart. 

She had never been able to turn away from another in need, Holly didn't need to over analyse why either, even though it would have been safer to keep their distance. 

"Jarvis, can you let Bruce know I need him in the medical wing please."

"Of course Ms Potter."

Holly gathered everything she needed, grateful that she had spent the last two hours putting things away correctly, so she knew where everything was. 

Turning back around, she could see that James had opted for one of the chairs rather than a bed, and Holly was perfectly fine with that. 

She placed everything down on one of the silver medical trolleys and moved it closer to him before she washed her hands, dried them and put on the medical gloves.

"Are you okay for me to start Barnes?" she asked. 

He looked at her, with those ocean blue eyes that seemed to have more darkness than any brown eyes she had ever seen before. But then the ocean was far deeper and darker than anybody really knew. His stare had been intense yesterday, but now just with the two of them it was _more._ Sharp, full of swirling...emotions for the briefest of breaths that Holly had no hope of being able to decipher before something fell down in front of them, and they turned back to evaluating her.

Holly could admit he was _attractive_. She had noticed yesterday, but standing closer to him, she could see it in more detail. 

"Bucky."

"Huh?"

"My name is Bucky."

Holly nodded once slowly, swallowing the lump that was forming in the back of her throat. 

She just needed to breathe.

She just needed to breathe.

"You know I can honestly say I didn't picture my day with me throwing my Pad at someone who required medical aid, and who also happened to be my boss as well."

A slow smile crept along his lips, she tracked the movement only stopping when she realised what she was doing. 

Huh, he had a charming smile.

_Don't go there._

"I'm not one of your bosses."

"I'm pretty sure your name was on the list that Hill gave me. Avengers Tower kind of gives a clue as to who runs the show."

"I'm not an Avenger," he replied, his smile dropping.

Holly could hear what he wasn't saying as clear as day, and it made her heart clench tightly. 

Damn it, it's just an effect of the marks. Nothing more. 

Yet it still didn't stop her from smiling warmly at him. 

"You may not have been at the Battle of New York, but you're here now, trying to make a difference to the world, just like the others. I would say that makes you an Avenger," Holly said softly, "I'm sorry I threw my Pad at you."

"I think I deserved it...for _not_ scaring you."

"I wouldn't say you _deserved _it. But now I know you're just poking fun at me."

"Only a little," he chuckled in agreement.

Holly shook her head, "I'm I okay to look at your hand?"

Their eyes met again.

She waited patiently.

Holly knew he had his choices taken away from him, in every aspect of his life; she wasn't prepared to do that for a second. Regardless of how small the decision would be to everybody else. 

She knew, even if it wasn't to the extent that he did, what it was like to have very little control over oneself.

Holly waited for his confirming nod before she took his right hand in hers. 

Were her hands shaking? 

Was it obvious? 

Merlin, she hoped not. 

Holly lifted his hand up so she could get a closer look, carefully unfurling his fingers, until she could see the cut. 

Bucky was radiating heat, she was breathing it in with every breath she took, and it rolled over her skin, chasing away a chill she could feel in her bones. Holly was acutely aware of his eyes watching her, close enough to feel his breath on her face as she leaned forward. But although she was holding his hand in hers, he kept his distance. 

His whole body shifted just enough that they didn't touch anywhere but his one hand in hers.

She studied the cut, reached for the saline solution, and paused; it would be so much easier if she were able to use magic, but wishing was pointless. 

"Do you have any known allergies?" she asked, glancing up at him. 

"No."

"Okay, this is going to sting, but I need to make sure the cut is as clean as it can be, to reduce the risk of infection."

He chuckled in amusement at her, "Super solider serum takes care of that."

"Huh, I guess it will take care of the healing as well." 

"I won't need stitches; I just need the glass removed."

"Otherwise you will heal around it," she nodded in understanding, "Right. Best get to it."

She didn't wait for him to respond. Instead, she poured some of the solution on a gaze pad and swabbed as gently as she could around the wound, before reaching for the pair of tweezers.

The first piece was large enough that it didn't take much for the tweezers to grip to and she pulled it out.

She winced in sympathy, but Bucky didn't even so much as twitch. 

High threshold of pain. 

She could relate to that, but even so, she still found paper-cuts hurt like a son of a bitch. 

"You have quick reflexes," he noted, his head tilted to the side as he watched her.

"My cousin used to play a game when we were younger. A little like run rabbit run. I was always the rabbit," Holly answered without thinking as she pulled another piece of glass out, "Well technically, he called it Holly Hunting, but it amounted to the same thing."

Holly stilled. Why had she just admitted that somebody needed to zip her mouth shut before anything else poured out?

"Plus I spent six years on my school sports team, trying to catch a ball before the other team did. It keeps you on your toes," she said quickly covering her previous comment. That had been what she had initially been planning to say.

He was watching her again, eyes seeing every detail, Holly wasn't entirely sure she was able to keep everything from slipping through. She had always been confident in her masks, in her facades that she wore, that she wrapped around her and sunk into, but Bucky and his all too seeing eyes was making her question her skill set.

She shifted at the thought. 

Breathe. Just breathe and keep it together. 

She pulled another piece of glass out. 

"Where did you learn to do this?"

Holly nibbled on her bottom lip, choosing her next words carefully, "School, I used to study under the school nurse there during my free periods. You never know when it comes in handy."

Not exactly a lie though not quite the full truth. Holly had spent free periods in the Hospital Wing, learning what she could from Madam Pomfrey. 

"Didn't think of following through with it?"

Holly gave him a sad smile, "My path was pretty much picked out for me the moment I was born." She shrugged, "Besides I suck at the bedside manner side of things."

"I'm sure practise makes perfect for bedside manner."

"Uh-huh and how exactly do I get that practise?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she gave him a pointed look. 

"I would say you would need to find a willing guinea pig," a half-smile played on his lips.

"And where exactly do I find that willing guinea pig?"

"I might know a guy."

Holly smiled at him, letting her own amusement shine in her tone, "Does that line ever work?"

Amusement danced across his face. The smile turned into a smirk that was full of wicked promises. 

It was the kind of smirk that made a heart race and thoughts turn to desire. 

It was a smirk that screamed danger and trouble. 

Holly couldn't help but raise her eyebrow challengingly at him, a smirk crossing her own lips. 

Better to go on the offensive than allow her mind a chance to get flustered. 

The man needed to come with a warning sign. 

Their eyes met his twinkling with amusement, and she had no idea what _he_ saw in hers.

"Barnes, what happened?" Bruce asked as he stepped inside the medical wing.

The moment passed, Bucky's eyes sliding to Bruce, twinkle disappearing and a distant coolness replacing it. 

"I broke a glass I was holding. Holly was just getting the glass out."

"I think I'm done, but I figured it was best for you to double-check, in case I missed anything."

Bruce looked between the two of them, but stayed silent, before putting on his own medical gloves and swapping places with her. 

Bucky's eyes followed her, like a predator sizing up prey. Only _she_ wasn't prey. And she would be damned if she was going to be treated like one. She threw her own look back at him, and his lips twitched again, ever so slightly, before he winked.

Her heart skipped a beat. 

Holly swallowed slowly. 

Well aware that Bucky tracked the movement. 

"Holly has removed all the glass, so I will leave you in her capable hands in binding it," he paused, "Dare I ask about the Pad?"

"I threw it at him," Holly answered, with a straight face, as she moved to wrap Bucky's hand in a bandage. 

Banner hummed, "I see."

"I will sort her replacement," Bucky added, surprising the both of them. 

Holly blinked at him.

"You don't have -"

"I do. After all, I not scared you, which caused you to throw it at me. Good defence move."

"Well, it's not the only defence move I have...next time you won't be able to dodge it," Holly challenged, without thinking, and then her eyes widened in surprise. 

She hadn't meant to say that. 

She had absolutely not meant to say that. 

Bucky smirked, his eyes burning into her, "That sounds like a promise."

"I didn't mean -"

"Too late. No take-backs."

Holly blinked. 

"I look forward to it," Bucky's eyes sparkled with mischief and something else Holly wasn't entirely sure she could name, "I will see you tomorrow, Holly."

Holly frowned.

Wait what?

But Bucky was already leaving the medical wing, swiping her broken Stark Pad as he passed. 

She glanced at Bruce, who was watching with an equal amount of bewilderment dancing in his eyes. 

The universe was fucking screwing with her.

This was not keeping her head down.

And yet _something_ inside her purred.

* * *

He hadn't sought her out. 

At least he didn't think he had consciously. 

Bucky had been trying to work out a way for their paths to cross because he did want to talk to her. Wanted to at least try and make sense of this complicated tangle they seemed to find themselves in. 

Despite his gut warring with itself as to whether he should or shouldn't. 

Bucky knew he couldn't trust himself with Steve, so why would it be any different with Holly. 

He was a danger to them. 

To both of them.

And yet he still wanted to reach out to her. Even if it was just to explain, to talk to just...something. 

He hadn't planned to cross paths with her today. 

But perhaps it had been for the best that _he_ hadn't planned it out or that it had happened by pure chance, as natural as breathing. 

A part of him had frozen for a second the moment he had seen her standing in the medical wing, Banner nowhere to be seen. 

He had drunk in the sight of her, giving himself those few passing seconds to observe every detail that he could.

Because despite everything Holly was a mystery, and he had always loved puzzles. They pulled at his subconscious, and before the war, he hadn't hesitated in seeking them out, in following the trail of bread crumbs. 

It was probably because once upon a time, he would have actively thrown himself at working her out that he spoke out without thinking. 

Bringing her attention to him, because despite the fact he was learning to accept he wasn't the same person and that his past couldn't be rewritten and the Bucky Barnes he used to be was long dead. 

He wanted to be a regular guy just for a second, even if meeting his second soulmark was the least normal thing going. 

When he had first awoken from the depths of darkness to the confusion of being free from Hydra and realised that he was, in fact, free he had been overwhelmed. 

When he had seen _her_ name written across his skin, it had felt like a bottomless volcano churned, boiled and bubbled beneath his skin as lava moved through his body with every beat of his heart.

Uncontrollable rage.

At Hydra.

At Holly Jamie Potter.

He had lashed out at the first thing he came across; thankfully, it had been a team of Hydra Agents sent to recapture him. 

He killed them all.

He had seethed for days. 

Wondering how, how they had taken something sacred and twisted it to their purposes. 

Another link in the chain to the leash they had kept him on. 

But Steve's name was still there. 

Right alongside the new name of a woman he didn't know. Hydra hadn't taken it from him completely. 

It was what had dragged him out of the shadows, pulled him to the Avengers Tower before he even realised that was where he was heading to. 

Not that either of them had spoken about it. 

Both of them content in ignoring it, just as they ignored the brokenness between them, in _him._

Steve had Holly's name written around his heart just like his own was. Something Steve admitted he had woken up from the ice with. 

It had allowed Bucky to swallow down his rage. 

In the months that had followed his anger all but disappeared. 

It wasn't Holly Potter's fault that her name curved around his heart.

In the months that followed him seeking refuge in the Tower, he forgot about his second soulmark as he wrestled with his demons. 

The mark confused him and made him curious on those sleepless nights where he found comfort in tracing her name with his fingers. 

It wasn't something he had to focus on, worry about because the likely hood of them ever crossing paths was slim to none.

Except she had walked through the front doors applying for a job, seemingly oblivious to who she would actually be working for.

The curiosity had returned tenfold and pulled at him the moment _he_ had seen her. 

An itch he couldn't scratch, a tug he couldn't ignore. Wiggling its way to the front of his mind. 

He hadn't meant to scare her. 

Of course, he hadn't expected her to react like she had either.

It had been easy enough to dodge the Stark Pad that she threw in his direction, as she spun on her feet and turned to defend and attack.

There was a wry tightness in her eyes, green eyes that were as captivating as much as they were burning with sheer ferocity as they met his head on and refused to blink. He saw a brace to her feet, stiffness to the shoulders, a stance of someone expecting a fight, who was always expecting a fight. Her jaw, clenched tightly in gritty determination, twitching as she pressed her lips together. Her hands fidgeted enough to make him think she wanted to reach for another weapon.

He had no idea what weapon _she_ intended to pull, but the way that she moved from one fluid action into the other told him that she _had_ training. 

The part of himself, that he desperately tried to ignore, but couldn't, whispered that _she_ was a potential threat. 

The _Soldier_ stirred..._Challenge?_

No!

Bucky.

He was Bucky.

He was not the Asset. Not the Solider. 

Her attention, her caution, her evaluating eyes had pulled him under, had made him stand just a little straighter, made him want...he didn't know precisely what he had wanted, but it had been sudden and intense enough that _he_ hadn't been able to walk away.

He had stayed.

He had bantered. 

He had asked questions. 

He had learnt, just a little about her. 

He had smiled.

That one had surprised him the most...but it had made him feel human. 

He had wanted to touch her, and she stood close enough that it would have been easy enough to do so.

He made sure he didn't. 

Made sure that the only contact they had was his right hand in hers as she carefully removed the glass.

But he had felt her heat, heard the quickening beat of her heart, had smelt her scent, she smelt like fire and lightning, ozone and rain and something else. Something he couldn't name or place, but it had smelt divine. 

But then Banner had come into the medical wing, had eyed them up in surprise, and Bucky _knew_ his encounter would get back to Steve even if he didn't mention it.

Bucky knew _he_ was going to have to talk to Steve eventually, just as he knew Steve was sooner or later going to have to speak to her. 

They were all going to have to sit down and talk, _he_ wondered if that was possible or if the signing of the contract had burned all the bridges down. 

Bucky couldn't tell what Steve thought about her, or even what was going on between _them_...one complicated knotted ball. 

He couldn't say precisely what he thought about Holly, but she pushed and hissed, and bit, and then smiled and laughed and challenged. 

She had issued more than a few of them.

He took the bait and rose to one of them. 

That had surprised him even more. 

Holly surprised him. 

She hadn't been what he was expecting. She had her secrets, he had read them quickly enough, though she was better than most in keeping them tucked away, some things left marks. 

She couldn't hide the way she moved with sharp edges.

Like a predator. 

She couldn't hide the way her eyes had evaluated him and filed away the details. 

Showing she was trained. 

She couldn't hide the fierce determination that had blazed to life in her eyes when she challenged him. 

She wasn't someone that would bend easily. 

The others had a right to worry, she was...dangerous.

But not because she was Hydra. 

Bucky had no idea what she was, but he knew she wasn't Hydra.

Hydra would have tried to have broken down her defiance, would have tried to have extinguish her fire. 

Would have tried to make her like _him_.

He looked at the broken Pad in his hands as he sat down in the safety of his room. 

"Jarvis."

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes." The A.I hummed to life.

"Can you request another Stark Pad for Holly; make sure it has everything on it that her original one did."

"Of course Sergeant."

"And Jarvis, can you not tell Hill."

The A.I paused for a moment, "Of course sir, I will have it ready for Ms Potter to collect tomorrow."

"No, I will collect it. Give it to Holly myself."

"As you wish sir."

* * *

_Right jab._

_Left jab._

His body fell into the natural movements, as he focused his attention on every hit he made on the punch bag. 

He could feel his muscles contracting, his lungs burning with every breath he took. 

_Right cross._

_Left hook._

In time with every beat of his heart, fluid motion as his body moved in a rotation of torso and hips and arms. 

"Is this where you have been hiding this afternoon?"

His stomach knotted at the question, he didn't need to turn to look at who it was, he had known she was there the moment she had entered the boxing gym.

"I'm not hiding," he said through gritted teeth, each jab hitting a little harder. 

"You always go to one of two places after you have been to see Peggy. Today it's here."

"I'm fine, Natasha."

"Clearly."

"I'm. Fine."

"What's going on, Steve?"

"I needed to clear my head," he admitted, because goddamn it! _Steve_ knew Natasha wouldn't leave him alone until she had answers.

_Right cross._

_Left jab._

"If her working at the tower is going to be a problem, we will find another solution," she said quietly.

Steve stopped. 

Hands holding the punch bag, his forehead resting against it before he turned to look at her. 

Natasha's eyes were burning into him with concern. 

"It's not her."

"Then what is it?"

"Everything," he said softly. 

Natasha's face softened as she took a step towards him. 

"Bucky thinks we made a mistake with the contract. Bucky isn't talking to me, hasn't been talking to me properly, I don't know..." he ran a hand through his hair, "I just don't know. And then _she_ turns up, and everything just gets more complicated."

"You couldn't have prepared for this Steve. None of us could have."

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. 

"I should have."

"This doesn't lie at your feet. You couldn't control this. That's the whole messed up notion of the marks. It takes away a choice. Nobody in their right mind would choose to have one. You and Bucky were lucky enough to make it work, first as friends and then..." Natasha stopped, gave him another look, "But as Thor said you make it what you want to make it. Your marks match. And what that means between the three of you _is_ your choice, nobody else's."

He didn't answer. He just locked gazes with her.

"I won't pretend to understand what you are going through. What Barnes is going through, hell what Potter is going through," Natasha started, taking a step closer to him.

"We both know our enemies will use against us the first chance they get. All we can do is plan for it."

Steve blinked repeatedly, pushed himself away from the punch bag and walked towards his bag to grab a bottle of water. 

"The contract..."

"Is for her protection just as much as it is for you," Natasha said, "So no, in my opinion, it wasn't the wrong call to make."

"So why do I feel guilty?"

"Are you feeling guilty over the contract, or are you feeling guilty over how Barnes feels about the contract? Or is it even Barnes' feelings your feeling?"

Steve sighed, "I don't know."

"Wilson would say you need to get to know her."

He snorted because that was exactly what Sam would say. 

"It is okay if you don't want to. You're allowed to do what is right for _you._"

"I don't know what is right anymore."

"And that's okay too. _We_ can figure that out," Natasha said, as she settled down on the side of the platform ring, her arms crossing as she watched him her eyes full of understanding, "I will stay here with you until you are ready to go back to the tower."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to be alone."


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, kudos, subscribed and bookmarked.  
I am blown away by how many enjoy this story and I hope you continue to enjoy as the story continues. 
> 
> Apologies for the slight delay, but this chapter ran away with me a little and then I needed to edit and because it has some scenes I wanted to pay extra attention to I spent a little extra on them to make sure I was happy with the final outcome.
> 
> Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 5:- **

Steve glimpsed Bucky in the kitchen the moment he stepped onto the communal floor of the penthouse as he returned from his early morning run. 

He took his time crossing the room to the kitchen, absorbed in every detail of Bucky that he could, as he watched the man move around the kitchen as if it was his own personal domain. 

He knew Bucky was aware of him; his friend didn't miss a goddamn thing, even without the bonds flaring at the close proximity that the two of them were in. 

"What are you making?" he asked, walking around the breakfast bar to the double door fridge, he opened one of the doors reached for the jug of freshly squeezed orange juice and closed the door behind him. 

Bucky handed him a glass without even pausing in his task, "Pancakes. Mom's recipe."

"I loved your mom's pancakes," Steve admitted, as he poured himself a glass of juice and placed the jug on the side.

"I'm making enough, so you will get to have some," Bucky answered, "Where's Sam?"

"About fifteen minutes behind me," Steve admitted. 

Bucky threw him a look, "He's managed to get it down to fifteen minutes."

"He's training harder."

"I think he just likes to torture himself," Bucky said, his eyebrows raised and his eyes lit with a twinkle of mischief.

Steve smiled slightly, "It's possible."

Bucky snorted. 

"Are you still able to work with the Stark's security team today?" Steve asked as he took another sip of his drink and leaned back against the worktop.

"Both Clint and I are scheduled down for it," Bucky replied as he finished mixing the pancake batter.

"Good, we are adding the new recruits in with them as well," Steve said firmly. 

Bucky's eyes snapped to him, hardening ever so slightly. Steve mentally grimaced.

"Why?" 

Bucky's tone wasn't harsh, but there was a prickle of ice to his words. 

"We need them to start working on tracking down Hydra as soon as possible. The only way we can see if we can work with them is if we actually train them and see how they fit in."

"But adding them to the time slot with Stark's security?"

"Hill said it was the best time, that way her people are split into two rotas. And we can get a feel for them before _we_ start training with them."

Bucky held his gaze for a moment longer, before breaking it, picking up the frying pan and swivelling around some butter as it melted over the heat.

Steve refilled his glass, just as Sam stepped off the elevator. 

"I almost had you," Sam called out; sweat glistening on the man's forehead and Steve could hear his heart racing against his chest.

"Keep dreaming," Steve teased, a smile twitching on his lips just as Bucky snorted. 

"Shut up, Barnes!"

Steve caught Bucky's eyes that glistened with amusement, before he passed him another glass for Sam and poured the pancake batter into the frying pan, the mix sizzling away under the heat. 

"Are you cooking?" Sam asked, a dazed look crossing his face as he looked at Bucky. 

"If pancakes equal cooking," Bucky deadpanned, "Besides whom do you think kept that punk alive?"

"Hey!" Steve sputtered, "We took it in turns."

"You burnt the meatloaf."

"One time!" he countered as he poured Sam a glass of orange juice before putting the jug back into the fridge. 

"Is Holly included with the training?" Bucky asked, turning the conversation away from the past and into the present.

Steve paused, licked his lips, before forcing himself to shut the fridge door and turn around to face Bucky. Well aware that while Bucky wasn't looking at him, he had his full attention. Sam's eyes darted between them as he reached for his glass and looked as though he wasn't sure if he should stay or go. 

"All the new recruits Bucky, so yes, Holly is included with that," Steve raised his glass to his lips stopping so he could continue, "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No. Is it going to be a problem for you?"

The question threw him, and he blinked in surprise.

"No. It won't be a problem when it's my turn. We need to determine what skill sets the new recruits have. The two former Strike members speak for themselves, but the others, we need an idea."

He took a sip of his drink and leaned back against the counter. Silence falling between the three of them, as Bucky flipped skilfully flipped a pancake to cook the other side.

Once upon a time Bucky would have missed the pancake all together, and it would have ended up on the floor, or put too much force into the flip and ended up on the ceiling. 

"You're better at that," he noted. 

Bucky shrugged, "Hydra's training has its uses for no combative killing purposes."

Steve flinched.

"Buck -"

"I know. That was my attempt at humour."

Silence fell between them again, as Bucky slipped one pancake onto a plate and started adding more batter.

"Are you and Natasha going out today?" Sam prompted, smoothing the awkwardness that had fallen between them. 

"Yeah." Steve darted a glance at Bucky before continuing, "One of her sources reached out. Has information they think we would be interested in knowing." He rubbed his thumb absently on the glass in his hands. 

"Hydra related?"

He spotted Bucky tensing slightly.

"Possibly, but we can't know for certain. You have a VA meeting?"

"Yeah, I will be back at one though. You needing backup?"

"No, Natasha and I will be able to handle it."

Bucky turned from the hobs, two plates in his hand, each of them having a stack of pancakes on them. He slid one each to him and Sam before turning back and starting on the next batch. 

"Thanks," they both said, as Sam moved to reach for cutlery and Steve reached for the maple syrup. 

"Sergeant Barnes, Ms Potter, has entered the building," Jarvis announced, suddenly. 

"Thank you, Jarvis."

Steve paused, his eyes darting up to Bucky.

"You have Jarvis monitor Holly's movements?"

Bucky snorted, "No."

Steve hesitated, debating with himself whether he should voice the next question. Did he want to know? Or would he rather not know. But then he had never been a coward.

"Have you spoken to her?"

Bucky stiffened. 

"Yes."

Steve opened his mouth before snapping it shut. 

What could he say? 

He took a bite of the pancakes. They tasted exactly like Bucky's mom used to make them, even down to the hint of cinnamon. 

He chewed slowly.

He didn't have a right to ask. Bucky was perfectly entitled to talk to whoever he wanted, and if he wanted to talk to _her,_ then that was okay. 

"The Pads for her," Bucky answered for him, as he turned around to face them.

Steve frowned, "She's already broken the one she received yesterday?"

"She threw it at me."

"She threw it at you?" Steve blinked a few times; his voice had raised ever so slightly, enough for Bucky to throw him a sharp look. 

"You don't have to repeat everything I say you know punk."

"I'm not. I'm just trying to picture a scenario where Holly ended up throwing her Stark Pad at you," he countered. 

He caught the amused smile on Sam's face, as brown eyes watched them both.

"I startled her in the medical-wing. It would seem Holly is a more attack first, ask questions later when she is startled."

Sam snorted, "She will fit right in here then."

Bucky threw Sam a pointed look. 

"You startled her," Steve said slowly.

"I didn't hurt her," Bucky insisted. 

"I didn't think for a second that you did Buck."

"I went looking for Banner; I had glass in my hand. Banner wasn't there it was just Holly, and I startled her -"

"And she threw her Pad at you," Sam finished with a grin. 

"I hate you, Wilson," Bucky grumbled as he turned his attention back to the pancakes.

"I love you too, Barnes," Sam sniped back as he took another mouthful of his pancakes. "And on that beautiful note, I am going to go shower."

Sam picked up his plate, threw him a look and mouthed the words _'talk to him'_ before walking away. 

"Aren't you curious?" Bucky asked a few minutes later. Steve glanced up, meeting Bucky's eyes as he looked at him over his shoulder. 

"About?" Steve answered, blinking in surprise. 

"About her. Aren't you curious why she was marked, why we were marked? About it all."

Steve couldn't read a single minuscule expression on Bucky's face. He had always been able to read Bucky, always been able to see every expression, every emotion that ever crossed his face. Now, Bucky was a closed book unless _he_ wanted to express something. 

"I'm curious."

"But not enough to try and get to know her?"

"That's not fair, Buck," he said softly, "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel. It's been just the two of us since we were kids, as friends, and then _as -._" 

Bucky was looking at him and Steve felt as though he was being sucked into the depths of his blue eyes.

"I want to get to know her."

Steve hesitated a moment, choosing his next words carefully, trying to keep the hurt from showing. This wasn't about him; this was about what Bucky wanted. "I think that is a good idea."

"I'm not doing it to hurt you," Bucky said his blue eyes softly pleading with him.

Steve winced; perhaps he hadn't been able to keep the hurt from showing after all. 

"I know you aren't," Steve whispered. 

"I don't know who I am anymore. I know I'm not the same person I was, and I don't think I deserve that kind of love anymore. I don't deserve you."

"Bucky," Steve breathed, reaching for those bonds running between them and doing the only thing _he_ knew how to do. He sent a calming flow of love and acceptance through them.

_I love you. You will always deserve my love. I love you. I will never stop loving you._

"Stop it punk," Bucky rumbled, as he shifted on the balls of his feet. 

"I don't know how to."

And wasn't that the truth, _he_ didn't know how to stop loving Bucky. He didn't want to know-how.

Even when all those years ago and he started falling for Peggy. That had hit him like a steam train, rolled right through him, it had still been Bucky he had reached for, had been Bucky he had gone headfirst into enemy hands to pull him out because _he_ couldn't survive the idea of Bucky being dead.

And that was what hurt the most waking up from the ice. 

The raw, unadulterated pain and grief that Bucky had been dead for seventy years when it had only been three days for him. 

Three fucking days.

The white hot inferno that had burned through him when he had discovered Bucky was not only alive, but a prisoner to Hydra for those seventy years had him tearing through Shield. 

_He_ hadn't been just about stopping Hydra's plans in its track. No, a deeper darker primal part of him had wanted to hurt them; rip them to shreds...had wanted vengeance and had damn well sought it out. 

Steve took a breath. 

But now, it wasn't just _them;_ it was them_,_ and another, and Steve didn't know how to fucking feel about it. 

Regardless of what Thor and Natasha said, he could feel her. Not as strongly as Bucky, the bonds weren't fully there yet, but fleeting flickers, of pain, hurt, doubt and uncertainty stirred within him when he wasn't expecting it. 

He felt it all. 

His. Hers. Bucky's, a confusing, bubbling, wriggling amalgamation of every human emotion possible whirling around like a hurricane trapped by his ribcage. It was threatening to rip and shred him apart from the inside out. 

"She's easy to talk to."

Steve stiffened, but he listened.

"Guarded. Wry of...I don't think it's of me, but rather wry of what I mean. What it all means. It's nice to not have someone scared of me on their first meeting for what I have done, for who I am."

"That wasn't you Buck," Steve assured.

"I know," Bucky's tongue flicked slightly over his bottom lip, "but I still did it. The blood is still on my hands, and I can't ever get them clean and I still don't know the full carnage that I am responsible for."

Steve didn't push, as much as he wanted to. As much as he wanted to gather Bucky in his arms, press his nose against his hair and just hold him. 

He didn't. 

"She's not Hydra," Bucky stated.

Steve frowned, "What makes you say that?"

"I know Hydra. Holly is hiding something, I can see that, but she's not Hydra."

Steve nodded; he would trust Bucky's judgement in that. If Bucky was saying she wasn't Hydra, then he could believe it.

"The contract was for her protection you know if Hydra finds out about her -" he left the rest unsaid because they both _knew_ what Hydra would do if they found out about her, and got their hands on her.

"I know. I don't like it, but I know. Hydra already knows her name," Bucky muttered, "and that's my fault."

"That's not your fault, Bucky," Steve assured, "We won't let them take her."

"No. We won't."

The iciness of Bucky's tone bit at his flesh, and Steve couldn't help but shiver, because he was pretty sure that... 

That was all the Solider.

* * *

"Good morning Jarvis," Holly greeted as she stepped into the only lift that went up to the Avengers floors. 

"Good morning Ms Potter."

"Do you know if I can pick up my Pad?" she asked, glancing up towards the ceiling. 

Jarvis may not have a physical body, but that didn't mean she wouldn't acknowledge him in some way. 

"I believe Sergeant Barnes has it in his possession."

Holly blinked in surprise, "Oh...um, I wasn't expecting that. I know he said he would sort it, but I presumed I would have to collect it."

It meant that Bucky intended to give it to her personally. To see her again in person. Holly shifted slightly on her feet. 

She really hadn't been expecting that.

"Did he say when he was going to give it to me?"

"I have already notified him that you are in the building."

Holly smiled tightly, "Thanks Jarvis."

Her mind was spinning. What did she do in the mean time?

Did she go and sit in Bruce's lab and wait? Did she go and sit in the communal kitchen on the main operating floor, but if she did that she ran a risk of running into Hill and explaining why she was waiting. 

Or did she find somewhere else together?

Holly bit at her bottom lip. 

"Jarvis is there anywhere I can wait that I won't be disturbed? I don't want to go to Bruce's lab and just sit there twiddling my thumbs."

Jarvis didn't answer straight away, as if he was thinking about his answer, before finally settling on one. 

"Of course Ms. There is the observing gallery over the gym, I will inform Sergeant Barnes that you will be there."

"Thanks Jarvis."

The lift bypassed the main operating floor and stopped at the floor she needed without her even pressing the button. 

Jarvis was the real king of this building, of that Holly had no doubt of. She gave a small salute as she exited and ignoring the doors that indicated the locker room went to the second door on the left as Jarvis instructed her to do so. 

It led to a flight of grey steps that opened out into a large balcony that observed the gym below. A glance over the railings gave her a clear sight of the large room below, well equipped with all the equipment one would need and was large enough to run laps around. 

Holly could see that someone was already making use of the gym below. She just couldn't see who. 

She sat down on one of the benches. 

A lack of Stark Pad had her at a disadvantage and unable to sink her teeth into her work. 

Thankfully she still had her phone so she was able to check some of her emails on the new account that had been set up for her, as she tried to gather her bearings and layout of the tower.

Holly had to give Jarvis credit the observing gallery was a quiet spot and the perfect place to settle down and enjoy the quiet before she was busy working through a long list of information. 

Maybe it would allow her to silence her whirling mind, calm the churning emotions. 

She had had another restless night, but this time it wasn't so much work that kept her at her dining table, but rather her mind replaying the meeting with Bucky and everything that it had stirred up inside of her. 

Holly closed her eyes and breathed. 

The smell made her nose twitch, and her mouth water.

It smelt divine.

Holly didn't need to open her eyes to know who sat down beside her in the gallery merely seconds later. 

Heat enveloped her. Pressing along her skin comfortingly as if she had just stepped inside a warm room when it was cold outside. 

"Jarvis said you prefer tea over coffee. Milk no sugar," he said. 

Holly opened her eyes and looked at the man sitting next to her. Two mugs carefully placed in one hand, a plate in another, with a knife and fork tucked inside. 

"You do know that's kind of creepy. I've only been here a day."

"I asked a question, Jarvis answered," he replied, looking entirely too smug with himself.

"You sound a little too pleased with yourself there," Holly pointed out.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Holly raised an eyebrow at him.

Her magic unfurled like a sleeping animal lifting its head into the air and tasting it, as it searched and reached, to strengthen the connection running between them. 

Holly had no idea what the bonds felt like to muggles, but it was instinctively there for her, in her heart, in her stomach, in her soul, a smouldering ember just waiting to burst to life.

She dared not let it.

Dared not reach for it.

Holly was terrified that if she did, it would bite her in the ass, but she was a Potter, and Potters didn't run from a fight, _she_ had never ran from a fight and she wasn't about to start now. 

"Jarvis, I thought you liked me," she stated, taking the mug of tea off him. She noticed a new Stark Pad tucked under his arm.

"I do Ms Potter; however, I saw no harm in providing Sergeant Barnes with your preferred drinking preference." 

"Uh-huh, I thought us Brits were sticking together," she mumbled sipping her drink.

"Of course Ms Potter."

Bucky grinned at her.

"Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me yet, I fully intend on eating these pancakes in front of you," he said with a charming smile. 

It was easy to forget everything when he smiled like that.

"Is that for me as well?" she asked, nodding her head towards the Pad. 

He pulled it out from under his arm and passed it to her, "As promised, a replacement for the one that broke."

"Thank you."

She took the Pad off him and rested it on her knee.

Holly sipped her drink, before placing the mug down next to her.

He sat down next to her, and offered the plate to her, the smell of the pancakes hitting her made her stomach grumble. 

"I thought you were going to eat them in front of me," she said, raising her eyebrow at him. 

"I'm not that cruel."

Holly hesitated before carefully taking a pancake and napkin off him, trying and failing to not get too much maple syrup on her fingers, and took a bite. The warm combination setting her taste buds alight.

_Yum!_

"You make this yourself?" Holly murmured. 

"Mom's recipe. It's about one of the few things I remember how to make," he answered as he took his own bite. 

"Well if you ever decide to set up shop, sign me up as your number one customer," she hummed, as she took another bite.

"I will keep that in mind."

"Seriously, you would have them lining up."

"Now you are just sweet-talking me," he chuckled. 

"I would never," Holly said mockingly. 

Holly looked at his right hand, bandaged free. 

"You do heal fast? Any of the muscles still tender?"

"Good as new."

"That's something at the very least."

"Is that concern?" he asked, locking gazes with her. 

Holly snorted as she looked away, "No."

"I think it was, at least a little bit."

"You're entitled to think what you like..._Sergeant."_

They both fell silent, sipping their drinks, as Holly focused on loading up her new Pad. Thankfully, Jarvis, it seemed had been kind enough to ensure her details were exactly the same as her old one. 

"You don't have to stay with me, consider your duty fulfilled now that you have given me the Stark Pad as you promised."

He looked at her, his blue eyes burning intensely as he locked gazes with her. Holly swallowed slowly. 

"If you don't want me to stay, you are allowed to say that. "

"I figured you would be busy with Avenger stuff," she answered with a shrug. 

"I am. I'm busy with you right now. If anything urgent happens and all hands on deck are needed, Jarvis knows where I am."

Holly flinched her head back slightly, her brow creasing as she frowned. Neither of them looked away, and Holly could see that he was serious, that he was sincere.

She just couldn't for the life of her work out why. 

"I thought the con-" she snapped her mouth shut quickly. She wasn't going there. She really wasn't fucking going there.

He tilted his head, brow creased. Was he angry? Or confused?

Holly really couldn't tell. 

"So what's on our agenda today?" 

"Our agenda?" Holly asked with a raised eyebrow, "I honestly don't know what is on your agenda, Jarvis could you kindly tell the Sergeant here what is on his schedule for the day, he appears to have forgotten."

"Of course, Ms Potter. I do believe you are free till eleven o'clock, Sergeant Barnes. At eleven, you are training with the Stark security team and the new recruits. I believe Ms Potter's attendance is mandatory."

"Wait for what?"

He gave her a slight smile as he sipped his coffee. 

"See, I'm free. Till eleven, and then our schedules line up. So what are we doing?"

"Why exactly is my attendance mandatory?" Holly asked, ignoring his question.

"All the recruits' attendance is mandatory. We need to assess your skills if we are going to have you out on the field with us."

Holly shook her head, "I should have read the fine print. Support was too broad of a term; anything could be squeezed in under there."

"Oh, yeah, like what?" He grinned. 

"Like burying dead bodies. Where exactly would we be expected to bury dead bodies?" Holly deadpanned.

"Everybody knows you chop the body up and feed it to the pigs."

Holly blinked in surprise, her lips curving ever so slightly in amusement. He had a sense of humour. "And does Mr Stark have pigs on standby for such occurrences?" 

He gave her a wink

"I'm sure it can be arranged." 

He took another bite of his pancakes, falling silent for a moment, before continuing, "So what are we doing?"

"We?" 

"I'm trying to offer you my help. Are you naturally this suspicious?"

"Yes. Especially when you tell me you chop up dead bodies and feed them to the pigs."

"That's only on Wednesdays. But I meant in general, do I need to take it personally?"

"It is Wednesday!"

"So it is."

Holly gave him another look over the rim of her mug. 

"You aren't going to go away are you?"

"And miss the opportunity of your charming company, while being insulted by you at the same time," Bucky smirked, "Not a chance."

It was just friendly conversation, nothing more and he was easy to talk to. Yet Holly couldn't shake the feeling that he was pushing himself to speak to her. 

Her brow creased together, was it just because of the marks?

Of course, it was she would be stupid to think it was for another reason.

"I was waiting for the replacement Pad, which you kindly brought me," Holly answered, glancing down to the Pad on her knees. 

"What are you working on?" He shot her a curious look. 

"I am currently trying to find you some medical people that are willing to work here permanently."

"You mean you would stop playing doctor?" He asked teasingly. 

"Oh, I definitely wasn't playing doctor. That was about the grand scope of my skill set."

"Pity, I think you would suit a white coat."

Holly swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, ignored the charged zing in the air and the shiver that ran down the length of her spine. She ignored the glimmering mischievousness in his eyes that were spelling trouble with a capital T. 

Because that statement was entirely innocent. 

Even though Bucky Barnes had made it sound anything but innocent.

She even ignored the tightening of her chest at the mere mention of white coats and her churning stomach. 

**_Don't think about that._**

"I will let Bruce know you have a thing for white coats," she teased, hoping and praying that her voice didn't sound half as shaky as she was actually feeling. 

He snorted, "Be nice, Holly."

She smirked around her mug, "What gave you the impression I was nice?"

Bucky didn't answer. Instead, he turned the conversation back on to her. "So where are you from originally?"

Holly blinked at the sudden turn of questions, damn it; he was good at that disarming her and then asking a question. She would have to keep an eye on it, make sure she didn't give anything away _she_ didn't want to give away. 

"I was raised in Surrey. I lived there until a week before my seventeenth birthday. I left, I didn't go back. After that, pretty much all over the place. I class London as my home base, but it's a couple of years since I have been there," Holly answered, "What about you?"

"Brooklyn born and raised."

Holly had a thousand questions but refrained from asking. 

"How far is Brooklyn from the Tower?"

"Half an hour give or take on traffic," Bucky answered.

"And you have to cross that bridge right, the one that's in all the TV shows and films. At least to some degree."

His lips twitched again, "Brooklyn Bridge. You been?"

"No. But then I haven't seen any of the tourist stuff that everyone says you should see in New York."

He frowned at her, "How long have you been in New York?"

"Seven months."

"What exactly have you been doing for seven months?"

"A little of this, a little of that. It took a while to find the right apartment, and then it was looking for jobs," Holly answered nonchalantly.

"Where exactly is your apartment?"

Holly narrowed her forehead slightly, "I think they call the neighbourhood Hell's Kitchen. It was struck hard by the Invasion, so a lot of properties are dirt cheap at the moment, but good value for money." 

"And in all that time you haven't been to a single tourist hotspot?" 

Holly glanced at him; he threw her an incredulous look with widened eyes. 

Holly squashed the urge to roll her eyes. The truth was she hadn't had the chance to visit any of the tourist attractions in New York City, even by accident. She had found her apartment reasonably quickly, and while her lawyer had handled the details for her, Holly had been travelling across America following the bread crumbs of Hydra's movements. 

She had visited more than one or two corrupted police officers and Detectives who had 'looked into some of the missing children' she had identified as muggle-borns. Along with one or two government officials within their cities. 

While she always apparated back to her apartment in New York, she hadn't exactly spent a lot of time in the city. 

"Settling into a new city has its ups and downs. I found a bar close to my apartment which I frequent, along with good takeaway restaurants and shops that I need. I've spent time in the library, and I've looked for jobs." Holly shrugged, "And well here I am."

"Not made any friends?"

"I've made acquaintances. Some of my neighbours seem friendly enough. I mostly keep to myself, I prefer it that way," Holly admitted. 

"That sounds lonely."

"It suits my purpose. I moved around a lot, made it easier when I wasn't saying goodbye every time I left somewhere." Holly looked at him, his eyes alight with understanding that made Holly shift slightly uncomfortable.

He seemed to be able to read her a little too well. 

Bucky set his mug down on the bench next to him and held out his hand to her. Holly frowned as she stared at it before hesitantly taking it in hers. 

Her palm tingled as he shook her hand and Holly couldn't help but take note that his palm was warmer than hers. 

"Bucky Barnes," he smiled at her. 

Holly smiled softly as understanding dawned on her, "Holly Potter."

She let go of his hand. 

"We've made it official now. Friends?" Bucky said. 

"Just like that?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"It's dead easy."

"Well, aren't you a smooth one?"

His smile dropped slightly, "I used to be. At least I think I used to be."

The realisation struck through her as if lightning had hit her. Bucky was pushing himself to talk to her, not because he felt he had to because of the marks, as she had first presumed, he probably did want to talk to her.

But the teasing, the smooth talk made more sense now. Bucky was channelling the parts of himself he could remember. Of how he used to be. 

Even if it felt a little off kilt.

He was trying to be the person he once was.

He was out of practice talking to people that weren't the Avengers, that didn't have some level of understanding of what had happened to him, of what he had gone through. 

Holly didn't know fully what he had been through, but Merlin she had a better understanding of the horrors he would have faced than he realised. She knew exactly what it felt like to be forced to do something, to have yourself honed into a weapon.

Not on the same level, but she understood having free will taken away from her. 

Holly softened her features as she chose her next words carefully. She met his gaze with her own and let as much understanding as she could shine in them, hoping that it was enough. 

"You know you don't have to try so hard. I mean I'm not saying you are, but you don't have to try so hard to be who you think you used to be. You can just be you now, and that's okay. Healing takes time, and you are entitled to take that time Bucky."

A sad smile flickered for a moment before an unreadable mask slipped into place and he looked away. Merlin, Bucky was good at that. 

Better than anyone she knew.

Her heart tightened. As if invisible hands had gripped around it and were squeezing tightly. 

She knew she should keep her distance. The voice in the back of her mind was warning her to show fucking caution. Yelling at her that this was not what she was here for, Holly couldn't help but feel that she needed to do something to help. 

_It's just the marks. The marks are making you feel you need to help him._

Holly knew that wasn't true, knew that it was the voices last ditch attempt to try and get her keep her distance, to keep her safe. 

She had never been unable to turn away from someone in need. That was not who she was, and helping him didn't mean she was letting him in. 

"Tea or coffee?"

Bucky snapped his eyes back to her. 

It was an innocent question, non-invasive, but it would make him think about things he knew about himself.

"Coffee. Black."

Holly wrinkled her nose, "I really don't understand how people can drink that."

He gave her a small smile, "It kept us going on the front lines."

"I imagine it would. A boost of energy. And milk wouldn't exactly have been easy to acquire or preserve."

"A luxury we had back in the main camp. None of us bothered wasting it in the coffee."

"Hot chocolate?"

"Only at night time. You?"

"All day if I could get away with it. I love it with cinnamon, or praline or pumpkin spice."

"Pumpkin spice?" he asked with an inquisitive glint in his eyes.

Holly shrugged, "My school had a large number of greenhouses, and they were very into using what they produced on the school grounds."

It wasn't exactly a lie; just not everything they had grown had been for human consumption through food. Some of it had been potion ingredients. Holly fired off another question before Bucky could contemplate her answer too much. 

She continued, "Favourite food?" 

"Pancakes. Pizza comes a close second."

Holly raised an eyebrow, "And you were willing to share your pancakes with me. I don't share my favourite food."

His lips twitched in amusement which Holly found herself responding to. 

The two of them passed questions back and forth between them, not touching on any ground that was too personal and they were questions that Holly was able to circle around to make sense to the muggle world view. They weren't outright lies; in fact, she didn't lie once. She just censored it a lot. 

"My apologises Sergeant Barnes, I believe Agent Barton is looking for you," Jarvis announced, cutting over their conversation.

Once a Shield Agent always a Shield Agent, Holly mused. 

"Duty calls," Bucky sighed, pushing himself to his feet. 

Holly followed suit, picking up her mug as she did so. 

"I guess you will be showing me you're other defence moves at eleven."

"Excuse me?" Holly blinked in surprise, where exactly had that come from.

"You said yesterday you would be showing me you're other defence moves. I am going to be testing that, and then I am going to be working with you to ensure those skills are up to scratch."

"Wait, what?" Holly's eyes snapped to Bucky, who again was looking entirely too happy with himself.

Holly opened her mouth before shutting it quickly, pressing her lips firmly together.

"See you at eleven, Holly."

Holly watched him walk away from, watched the confident graceful walk that was dangerous..._deadly_.

Merlin, she was so screwed. 

So fucking screwed. 

Sparring with Bucky Barnes was, _not_ on her to-do list. She had a feeling Bucky would call her out on her bullshit if she made it too obvious she was holding back. 

Not only that, she could see herself rising to the challenge as well, and that was the most significant risk of all. 

Perhaps, she could get away with it. Maybe she wouldn't have to spar with Bucky.

"Jarvis."

"Yes, Ms?"

"What are the chances of me breaking my leg between now and eleven o'clock?"

"Depending on how much effort you put into achieving your goal Ms, by chance I would say one per cent. If you were to venture into deliberate means I would say highly likely, along with sustaining other injuries. I would be duty-bound to notify Ms Hill if you intended to hurt yourself."

"How screwed am I?"

"I don't believe I understand Ms."

"It's okay, neither do I. Neither do I," Holly muttered as she made her way up to Bruce and his lab of wonders. 

She would just need to hold back. 

She would just need to hold back. 

Holly wasn't stupid enough to think she had a chance of beating him, and that wasn't her concern, her concern was that she would reveal more about her skill levels than she wished, just by holding out longer than _she_ should be able to.

Or god forbid, she reach for her magic.

* * *

Holly walked into the locker room at 10.50, her eyes sweeping over the place with a critical eye, taking note of the room in a single glance. 

Unsurprisingly considering the number of people that worked for them, and had access to the Avengers floors the locker room was unisex. Thankfully she was used to changing with both boys and girls in the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

The locker room was stylish and expensive like everything Holly had seen so far in the tower, though was surprisingly bright, airy and clean, like all locker rooms, it carried the ubiquitous scent of sweat and cleaning products that gave a lemon hint to them. 

Four pairs of eyes looked up at her as she entered, weighing and observing before they returned to readying themselves.

Holly frowned slightly.

Bucky had said that all the new recruits were joining the training session, along with Stark's security team.

"They have their own locker room on the lower levels." 

Holly glanced up at the only other woman in the room, mousy coloured hair, and deep-set brown eyes.

She had been there early enough yesterday that _she_ hadn't run into anybody else that had started the same time as her.

"That makes sense," she replied with a smile, giving it her best attempt at appearing friendly, although she would rather be anywhere else. 

Of course, that wasn't the other woman's fault, and Holly tried her level best not to be rude if she could help it. 

"Holly Potter," she introduced, holding her hand out in greeting. 

The woman eyed it for a fraction longer than would be considered polite before gripping it in her own, "Diane Phillips. The two meatballs over there go by Tank and Jax, and the scrawny looking guy is Ethan Sawyer."

"I'm not scrawny!" Sawyer yelled.

"Compared to them you are," Phillips fired back, before turning her attention back onto her, "We missed you in the tour on Monday."

Holly could hear the question even if it weren't an actual question. She gave a tight smile, the thing with working with former Shield Agents, they never really stopped being Agents, and regardless of their previous roles they had worked for an organisation that dealt in espionage on top of everything else. 

"Extra paperwork I had to go through. Being British, Hill had to make sure I had all the right papers that would allow me to work, legally, in the country."

Phillips gave her a hard look before a slight nod and turned her attention back to getting ready. 

Holly couldn't say whether she had passed the test or not, or even if there had been a test in the first place. 

She couldn't blame them for their caution, their whole world had blown up around their feet, and they didn't know who they could trust. 

From the hushed mutterings that filled the room, Holly wasn't entirely sure that everyone was on friendly terms. 

Of course, her fellow recruits were former Shield, and even though they were here now, with the betrayal still so raw, Holly doubted they would trust one another so quickly.

Holly busied herself with changing into her workout gear.

Gear that was provided for them, Holly wasn't even going to hazard a guess how exactly they knew her measurements or whether it was a wild guess.

They were her size, the three-quarter black length yoga pants lose enough to allow movement without fear of splitting at the seams, they were a thicker material than the ones she had seen some wear as the latest fashion statement outside the gym. 

She should have known that they were observant enough to judge the size of her clothes, but the sports bra was pushing it a little far in Holly's opinion. Especially considering it fit perfectly and comfortably.

Her heart fluttered beneath her chest, and Holly swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she slipped the razorback sports top on. 

It was high enough to cover the marks around her heart but still showed more skin than Holly was comfortable with, with parts of her back on show along with her shoulders and arms and neck. 

Her mouth was dry, and she was aware of eyes pressing along her skin burning with questions - though not a single person in the room asked. 

Holly kept her back turned away from the others in the room, ignored the itching between her shoulder blades and focused on trying to calm her mind. 

They were just scars. 

And they were something Holly had never bothered in hiding before, but they signalled a violent past. 

And they would bring questions. 

Questions Holly wasn't prepared to answer, though she doubted she would ever be ready to answer them. 

She had her scars from her years at Hogwarts, the battle with the Basilisk, the Triwizard Tournament, from Umbridge and her blood quill - even scars from before she went to Hogwarts when all she had to worry about was battling Dudley and surviving those incidents.

But the scars from Riddle and his Death Eaters, from the war, the battles that followed after, and Hydra...Holly closed her eyes as she tied her hair back in a bun as neat as she could manage. 

Riddle's brand, his mark, permanently burned into her skin on her left shoulder. Riddle had wanted his own personal stamp to make up for the lack of their matching bonds. Her name marred his skin, then the Dark Mark would mar hers. A sign of ownership that no matter how hard she tried to forget Riddle owned a part of her that she could never get back...that she was tainted goods. 

Healing had failed. 

And no matter how many times or how long she spent under the boiling hot water scrubbing herself clean she had never felt clean enough. 

Just another reason why she didn't want to get close to Bucky or Steve. 

Riddle had tainted her. Tainted what the marks should mean. 

Thick red lightning-shaped patterns down the length of one arm where a curse had hit her. The left side of her neck where a vampire had taken a chunk out of her. Claw marks from the pack of werewolves she had tangled with. Criss-cross scars littered her shoulders, her neck, and her arms. 

There were others, hidden beneath her top, and yoga pants, each one a sign that she had survived something that had tried to kill her, that wanted to destroy her. 

She would not cower.

Steeling her spine, Holly straightened and focused back on her task. 

She would not bend or break.

Even if she wasn't ready for the onslaught of questions she had no doubt would head her way. 

Using sleight of hand tactic to ensure her wand holster was still in place. She never went _unarmed_ anymore. She had learnt that lesson the hard way after her first assassination attempt the year _after_ the Battle. 

Hidden from sight in layers of wards and protected from damage Holly was confident that she would be able to keep it on while she sparred. The idea of taking it off made her shudder, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. 

Holly folded and piled her clothes into her locker, before pulling her hair into a messy bun as she walked out of the second door and into the gym.

She exited the locker room through the second door, following behind the others. Stark's security people were already there waiting, and from their hard assessing looks Holly wasn't so sure it was patiently or friendly.

A divide between those who worked for Stark Security and those who worked directly for the Avengers that was not something Holly wanted to get in the middle of.

She was able to blend in amongst the others and considering that _all_ of them towered over her, that wasn't hard. 

Holly had never been conscious of her height before, accepting that the years of neglect at the hands of the Dursleys had a somewhat negative effect on her growth. But she had in the years that followed the Battle of Hogwarts gained the weight and body strength she needed to be healthy. But surrounded by people that crossed that threshold of 6ft3 and onwards, Holly felt oddly small. 

In the way that made her reassess the best way she would be able to take them out without magic, or how long she could realistically show herself holding out before it became _suspicious._

Her competitive streak grumbled in protest because Holly had learnt to fight tooth and nail for everything she had and the idea of forcing herself to be weaker deliberately didn't sit well with her anymore. 

It would be too suspicious, though if she suddenly showed she was an expert.

Not that she was sure she could take them without magic. Holly had the training, a new protocol that they had put into place while she was an Auror. Allowed them to be useful even if they were disarmed, but it had never been any particular style, or art, or practice_._

Even in the years since she had been on her own, her combat skills were dirty and fast. 

The only thing Holly could effectively use to her advantage now was that she was fast. 

Nobody would raise an eyebrow at that. 

But if she took down a trained Agent without any official training, then eyes would watch her more closely. 

She just needed to hold back. 

Hold back and not use her magic. 

She could do that. 

A sweep of the room showed that Bucky and...Barton was already in the room. Bucky was leaning against one of the walls, his arms crossed over his chest, blue eyes fixed on to her. 

Holly ignored him though she had no doubt as observant he was, he was taking note of every one of her scars. 

Holly shuddered.

He was only paying attention to her because of the marks. 

And because she had said she had better defence moves than throwing a Pad at him.

What exactly had been running through her mind in that particular moment, Holly wasn't entirely sure. 

But it led to dangerous territory. Territory she _had_ to avoid at all costs. 

She could be friendly, but she had to remember why she was here. 

"Alright, listen up!" Barton said suddenly, breaking the silence in the room. 

"There is only one rule in this room. What happens in this room stays in this room. Someone knocks you down or hurts you, too bad. That's what happens when you are training you to get hurt."

Barton paused, looked up at them, "Out there, or an attack on the tower, and you are going to fight, you are going to bleed and its possible you are going to die. In here, _we_ are going to give you the skill sets you need to survive. To keep fighting. You are going to hate us, and that's fine. But it stays fucking in this room."

"Some of you already know _some_ of our training methods; others have training already under their belt. We are here to get better every damn day. The next Invasion. The next attack - right around the corner. Security has risen to a level four in this building alone. Let's make sure _we_ are ready to keep the people that work here safe."

Holly blinked in surprise, she wouldn't say it was a motivational speech, but it was _something_. She wasn't aware that the security on the building had increased to a level four - but then why would she be? 

_She_ needed to figure out precisely what that meant and where the threat was coming from. Was it Hydra, or was it something else?

"We will start with warming up. Push-ups. Start now."

Barton pointed to the floor, and Holly watched as everybody moved. At least the Stark Security team did well versed in what the sessions consisted of, even if some muttered grumblings and groans. 

Holly followed suit of everyone else. Moving to the floor, she extended her arms and legs and started lifting her body. 

Pathetically.

Holly hated push-ups. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time she had done them. Had she ever done one?

Her muscles burned under protest, and she silently cursed under the sun, with everyone she did. Well aware that the others around her were mostly moving effortlessly. 

As if they had been doing it for years. 

Was this some kind of _muggle torture?_

Merlin, she hated it. 

"You've never done push-ups before have you?"

Holly pushed herself to her knees and looked up at Bucky, who had been moving through them along with Barton. 

"That obvious?"

"A little." His eyes trailed over her arms, hardening with every scar he catalogued, and Holly forced herself not to react, to not flinch away, because, goddamn it, her past was hers and nobody else's. She didn't have to explain anything to anyone. 

"I'm more of a running and stretching kind of girl, not push-ups," she answered, attempting to distract from the growing tension as Bucky seemed to go stiller than he had done so before. 

Holly shuddered from the chill that crept through her and threw him a look. 

He ignored it, his jaw clenching as he knelt down next to her. 

"We will try it a different way until you gain strength then. We don't want you to injure yourself while you are warming up."

His tone was sharp. 

"No, injury is saved for the actual sparring right?"

He smiled slightly at her though Holly could tell it was forced. "Avoiding injury is preferable. Despite Barton's speech."

"Okay, so how do I do this differently?"

"Hands and knees," he said, waiting for her to get into position, "walk your hands forward until your body is in a straight line from your head to your knees. Your hands need to be positioned beneath and slightly wider than your shoulders." 

Holly followed his instructions, aware of how close he was kneeling down next to her.

"Okay, squeeze your body to keep your torso straight, bend your arms and lower yourself to the floor. Straighten your arms to press back up to the starting position."

Holly did. 

Bucky counted ten with her, before telling her to move into sit-ups. She nodded her thanks to him before he carried onto the next person. Holly was aware of Barton helping a few of the others, moving between each of them. 

Lunges, squats and a set of stretches followed; until they were both satisfied that every one of them had worked every muscle enough not to cause series harm when they actually sparred.

Holly wasn't used to warming up. 

Fighting for her life was all instincts, reaction and action. She hadn't had time to warm up while duelling with a wizard or witch. 

Even when fighting muggles, her primary goal was survival, she had reacted and attacked focusing on disabling her opponent as quickly and as efficiently as she could. 

Holly grabbed a quick mouthful of water in the brief respite before Barton paired them up. 

Holly focused on her opponent her head tilting slightly, her eyes narrowing. 

One of Stark's security people.

His name tag read 'Williams'.

She looked up at him and found blue eyes assessing her, a slow smile creeping along his lips. 

Holly ignored it. 

He was muscular, well-built, giving the impression he was not someone you wanted to cross.

Both Barton and Bucky had themgo through a series of motions of how to hit the ground without injuring themselves - how to roll, to balance their weight and how to use the momentum to press on into a different move. 

Holly noted, out of the corner of her eye, that only two other pairs of sparring partners that were going through the same series of movements that she and Williams were.

The others were already moving through drills far faster and more advanced than them. 

Sawyer and Phillips each faced their own Stark Security person. 

Recruits.

Williams was new. 

Holding back wouldn't be a problem if they didn't know what to expect from her. Except Holly was well aware of Bucky's eyes tracking her movements, observing to closely, with a slight frown on his face, a head tilted to the side, as if something didn't quite add up. 

He saw too much. 

Holly did her best to ignore him as she worked through the basics with Williams. 

Kicks, punches, blocks, hand attacks. 

Movements she knew and movements she didn't.

Williams hit hard, each blow packing more force behind it than she had anticipated a training exercise to use, and while he was fast he wasn't quite as fast as she was. 

Physical strength but not the speed. 

Her body moved fluidly, into each movement, all the while she reigned in _her_ speed, her strength, her instincts had seen several weak spots in Williams' defence and was urging her on to take him out. 

It would be easy. 

To easy. 

Holly ignored it all. 

Focused on her breathing, on pulling her punches, her kicks. 

This wasn't a fight for survival.

This wasn't a fight to the death.

It was just training. Just an exercise.

Williams pulled a move _she_ hadn't been expecting, his fist connecting with the side of her jaw with an echoing sound of flesh hitting flesh. 

Her head snapped back, and Holly stumbled. 

Her teeth clashing together. 

She hissed in pain and focused on her breathing as her stomach churned. 

Damn it to fuck!

It had been a hard hit, thank fuck she had pulled back just a fraction the last second, so while he had hit her, he hadn't hit her in the right spot to knock her out.

"Williams!"

Williams advanced forward.

A fist flew towards her.

Holly dodged. 

Another strike followed.

Williams socked her on the nose. 

Pain spasmed, her eyes watered.

She blinked through it. 

Fuck that hurt. 

_"Barnes!"_

Barton was calling Bucky, she was vaguely aware of it, but Holly couldn't say she was focusing on why. 

All she saw was red.

All she could taste was her blood. 

Instincts took over. 

Holly shoved the pain down. 

She was no stranger to pain, it was something she knew well, something she could work with. 

She dodged _his_ following punch, sidestepped to the left, and kicked out, hitting him in the inner side of his left leg with as much force as she could muster. His leg gave away under him, forcing him to crumble a little. 

Holly advanced as he stumbled. 

Grabbing hold of him. 

Pulling him down as she dropped and rolled. 

Kicked out with a leg to his stomach as she did until she rolled him over her and he hit the floor, and she was straddling him. 

His eyes widened in burning surprise. 

Her heart was racing, it pounded against her chest; she shifted off him stepping away. 

Well aware of eyes fixed onto them. 

Fuck, fuck, she had just screwed up.

She had fucking royally screwed up! 

Bucky's eyes had darkened considerably, swirling raging emotions, his gaze firmly fixed on Williams, only moving to her when she shifted slightly. 

When exactly had he gotten so close to her?

Fuck!

"Barnes," Barton warned.

"What?" Bucky bit out. 

"Take her to the medical wing; make sure that nose isn't broken."

"Tilt your head forwards, pinch the bridge of your nose and breathe through your mouth," he growled, taking a step closer to her. 

The silence that filled the room was deafening. 

"Barnes," Barton said, more firmly, more heat in his tone, "Medical wing."

Oh, hell, no!

"I'm fine, I will be fine. The bleeding has stopped," Holly babbled, bringing her head up. 

It hadn't. 

It was still bleeding.

"Let me have a look."

Holly felt herself freeze as Bucky's hand touched her chin, tilting it ever so slightly upwards. 

"It's red and looks like it's starting to swell. We will get Banner to check it out. Keep your head tilted forward and breathe through your mouth. Come on."

He had a hand on her back; a steadying presence as he led her out of the gym. 

Holly felt faint, and _she_ knew it had more to do with the fact that she was heading to the medical wing as a patient rather than the pain and loss of blood.

Holly _hated_ hospitals of any kind. 

_Hated_ being the patient. 

Hated the white coats. 

The vulnerability. 

The memories swirling through her mind as though she was stirring a cauldron.

Please not right now. Please not right now. 

Breathe.

She just needed to breathe.

She needed to push it away, just push it fucking away. 

Except her stomach had just opened up into a bottomless pit, and hands were reaching up to wrap around her and pull her down, chains weighing latching on with every breath she took. 

She couldn't breathe. 

She couldn't breathe. 

Her heart fluttered. 

Her chest tingled. 

_She _couldn't breathe. 

And then they were stepping across the medical wing threshold - wait how did they get there so quickly? Bucky was leading her to the bed where she leant against because she couldn't quite make herself sit on it, and _he_ was calling for Banner. 

_Just breathe. _

She just needed to breathe. 

Why couldn't she breathe?

And then she saw a man in a white coat and the world roared around her.

Holly desperately reached for her shields, but they slipped through her fingers like water.

All she could do was drown in the memories that clung to her skin, and sunk into her soul, icy hands gripping tightly around her and squeezed as they pulled her down.

_Hands pushed her down onto the bed as someone pulled and tightened restraints around her fixing her firmly in place. She couldn't move anything except her eyes. Her eyes tracked the movements as men in white coats crowded around her, shoved needles into her arms. _

_"Proceeding with Phase 1." A voice hummed. _

_A smiling face. _

_Knives cut across her, skin split and a searing wildfire roared through her entire body and...God make it stop! Make it stop! STOP!_

"Holly! Holly, sweetheart, it's okay, you're safe."

* * *

Holly jerked away from him and Banner with such force that the bed moved with her as she darted around, firmly putting it in-between them and her. 

A maelstrom was currently pulsing through the bonds, pushing aside his own icy rage that had been threatening to spill out the moment the bastard Williams had made contact with her jaw, the moment he had seen Holly's blood dripping down her face.

Bucky's skin prickled and his spine tingled as something seemed to creep over him like sharp nails kneading in a warning. 

A sensation he was familiar with and yet he couldn't place it. 

He could smell the acidic vinegar scent _he_ had come to associate with fear, mixing with the coppery twang of blood and a hint of something he couldn't quite name. 

Her body was trembling as she was rooted to the spot in the corner of the medical wing. 

Bucky had felt the trembling in his hands as he had led her to the medical wing, but he has presumed it was shock rather than fear, but now, there was no mistaking the panic-stricken look across her face.

"Holly," Banner said softly stepping forward. 

Holly flinched away, her face turning ashen as she fixed her eyes on Banner. 

She let out a whimper that sent Bucky searching for whatever threat he needed to destroy, to protect her. 

Except there wasn't any but him and Banner. 

Bucky shot out his left arm as Banner moved to take another step forward. 

"Don't," he growled in warning. 

Banner looked at him.

"She isn't seeing you. At the moment I doubt she is seeing either of us."

And she wasn't seeing Banner, Bucky knew that glazed look, she was stuck in whatever living nightmare that had been triggered. 

Her breathing was becoming more erratic, and he could hear her heart racing as it pounded against her chest. 

Threatening to break free any second.

He needed to calm her down. 

He needed to help any way he could. 

Because she was not meant to look like that. 

She wasn't supposed to be cowering like a terrified animal that reminded him so much of himself when he had first stepped through the tower doors.

She wasn't afraid of him. Of the monster that he was. 

She challenged and teased him. 

She had taken a punch to the jaw and the nose and had _still_ kept fighting. 

She had pushed through the pain and taken down her opponent. 

Holly had been okay until...

_Medical wing._

Had been fine until Barton had mentioned the medical wing. 

Except she had been working in the medical wing yesterday without any problems, Holly had been working with Banner.

He swivelled to look at Banner, half putting himself between the man and Holly. 

Banner looked startled, surprised...confused...upset. 

Bucky felt his eyes widen.

"Take off your coat."

"What?" Banner frowned.

"Your coat. Your white coat. Take it off," Bucky growled. 

Banner didn't hesitate. He slipped out of the white coat and placed it on the workbench.

"What happened?"

"Sparring took a punch to the jaw and nose. She was fine until Barton mentioned coming here, and then she just -"

"A trigger?" Banner asked with a frown.

"I don't know," he said with a frown as he looked at the white coat. He hated that he didn't. Didn't know how to help either. 

He knew the slightest thing could potentially set him off, throw him for a loop and he wasn't particularly comfortable around Doctors, but he trusted Banner. 

To a degree. 

"She was fine yesterday," Banner said softly.

"She wasn't injured yesterday," he pointed out, as he moved around the bed and a little closer to her. 

He took another step forward, lowered himself down, hands held up in the surrender signal. 

Her eyes fixed onto him. 

Bucky doubted that _she_ was really seeing him, though. 

"Holly," he said softly, "I know it doesn't feel like it, but _you_ are safe here. Nobody is going to hurt you."

Her eyes were wide; too wide he could see the white around her them. 

He reached for the bond and sent as much reassurance as he could through them. 

Steve was better at this than _he_ was. 

Steve was more reassuring. Calmer, gentler.

Not harsh and cold like he was now. 

She stiffened, and he pulled back ever so slightly, still reaching as delicately as he could, barely holding them in metaphysical fingers and brushed gently over them.

Calming.

Comforting. 

He had had episodes where he couldn't stand to be touched, and he had had episodes where touching had calmed him down. 

Bucky didn't want to push her, didn't want to push her deeper into herself. 

"Can you give us a minute?"

"I will be outside. Take as long as you need."

He waited until Banner left until he started talking again. 

"I want you to try and breathe with me okay?" he said slowly and gently. 

"Breathe in."

He took a breath.

Holly took a breath. 

Her eyes never leaving him. 

He took another breath. 

She took a breath.

He edged a little closer, just from one side, giving her the room to move if she wanted to, not cornering her in any further, and not taking away her choices.

He really wished Steve was here, Steve would know what to do. 

But Steve hadn't said two words to her.

He took another breath and offered one hand out. 

Even in her panicked state, her instincts pushed forward, too ingrained into who she was to not track his movements as he encroached into her personal space. 

Bucky had no idea how much she really saw though, how much she was registering or whether it was just primal instincts. 

When the Soldier took over. 

When he became the weapon, he was all instincts. Instincts and orders and missions. 

Nothing else mattered. 

He watched her, read her body language as best he could. Problem with injured animals was you never knew how they were going to react. 

He could see the tightness in her body, the way it coiled ready to strike, or prepared to be hurt.

He could see the rawness in those green eyes. Darkness creeping over them. Innocence stripped away through sins, and death and war leaving a predator that knew the fight for survival intimately and had come out on top at a cost. A spine of steel even now as she fought with blood-drenched claws and fangs to push her way out of whatever living nightmare that gripped her tightly.

It was a look he knew well. 

It was a look he had seen in his own eyes whenever he looked in the mirror. He had lived and breathed darkness and was trying to find a place for himself in the light.

It seemed Holly was just like him. 

He couldn't speculate on what she had survived, on what she had gone through. 

Yet as he offered her his hand, all he could do was wait patiently and hope and pray that she reached for him.

A lifeboat in a raging storm, because it was clear that Holly was lost at sea at this moment. 

The bonds rippled between them. 

He took a breath. 

She took a breath.

And then she reached, her hand shaking, her eyes burning into his soul. He wrapped his hand around hers and shuffled forward a little.

Her hand was warm. 

Firm, slightly calloused, and so much smaller than his. 

He wasn't sure why he paid attention to that particular detail except that he did. 

He found it comforting, her hand in his. It had been so long since someone other than Steve was willing to touch him. 

But this wasn't about him, this was about her. Calming her. 

Reassuring her. 

Careful to not make any sudden movements, he placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. 

"Feel my heartbeat; I want you to just focus on that, breath with that."

His heart thumped. 

Holly breathed. 

And again. 

And again. 

He could feel her pulse in his fingertips, feel it slow in time. 

Every breath she took a little calmer, a little deeper than the last. 

Until she had control of her breathing. 

Until she had control of herself.

He felt her arm loosen, the tension in her muscles slipping away, he scented the change in emotions, moving from acidic panic to pungent sour scent of shame. 

Her chin had dropped to her chest, and she refused to meet his eyes. 

Bucky hated it.

It made him want to lash out and hit something. 

He knew shame well; he felt it himself more often or not.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he replied. 

"I shouldn't - I -"

"Holly," he said, cutting across her, "You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. I can't say I know what happened or understand why it happened. But you have nothing to be sorry for, nothing to be ashamed of. You're injured, you are feeling vulnerable, and something about _here_ didn't feel right for you. And that's okay."

"I -" she snapped her mouth shut. 

"We can leave if you want. I can get Banner to treat you up in the penthouse; we don't have to stay in the med-bay."

"I don't want to be any trouble."

"You aren't. But we need to look at that nose, and make sure everything is okay."

They were quiet for a long time. Holly not answering, though he could see her weighing up her options until finally, she nodded, just once.

But it was enough.

He pushed himself to his feet, pulling her up with him, keeping his hand wrapped around hers. She didn't pull away; she just let him hold it. 

The bonds were pulsing to life between them, zapping and zinging made more intense by the physical contact, and the power that flowed through them was more than it was before.

And if Holly was gripping onto them tightly, well then Bucky was okay with that. 

Even if it meant that they had unintentionally strengthened _their_ connection. 

He could feel her now, clearer rather than fragments. 

Bucky couldn't even begin to unravel what she was feeling, it made no sense to him. A maelstrom of emotions whirling around inside of him, consuming all in its paths. 

It was overwhelming, intense, the sheer weight building inside threatening to explode outwards, and Bucky couldn't tell where his ended and hers began. 

But for now he dared not close them, not when it was clear she needed them. 

He led her out of the medical wing, Banner was waiting in the hallway.

"I'm taking her up to the penthouse, are you able to treat her there?"

Banner looked between them, "Of course. I will just get what I need and meet you up there."

"Banner."

The other man turned to face him. 

"Leave the white coat."

The bite to his tone held all the warning he needed to make, not that he was stupid to directly threaten the Doctor. Hulk would turn him into mincemeat if he even tried, but _he_ needed to give the warning never the less. 

Banner nodded once before walking back into the medical wing. Bucky led Holly towards the elevator, their hands still entwined. 

And he found that more comforting than he wanted to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the delay in this chapter there won't be a chapter this weekend. I hope to have the next one up as soon as I am able to.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, kudos and bookmarked. 
> 
> I really appreciate the support and I am taken away by how many are enjoying the story so far.  
I hope you all enjoy the next chapter, as much as I have enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 6:-**

Cold licked at her skin, gnawed at her bones and seeped into her soul, leaving her a quivering messy pile of mushy numbness.

She was exhausted. 

Soul weary, bone achy, limb heavy exhausted. 

Her back ached from how long she had held her muscles tense for. 

She had a lump stuck in her throat that she couldn't entirely shift and Holly was doubtful that her voice would even work even if she wanted to speak. 

She didn't. 

She didn't want to talk or think.

Yet despite not wanting to Holly was hyperaware of her surroundings, of the bright lights, hanging overhead, of the twangy scent of blood that filled her nose, and metal of the lift. 

But at the same time, it was as though she was looking through fogged glass, she could see, but she wasn't really seeing the here and now.

Instead, she was lost in her memories. 

Holly squeezed her eyes shut. 

Her heart pounded against her chest, and her hands were shaking. 

She couldn't get them to stop. 

Even the one that was gripped tight in Bucky's hand.

It was only for the scorching heat of Bucky's hand as he gently guided her through the hallways of the tower that kept her moving.

Kept her upright.

Holly was sure that _if_ he let go, she would crumple in a heap on the floor like the pathetic fool that she was. 

_Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_

How could she have lost control like that?

Weak. 

Worthless.

Failure. 

The words spun around and around in her head like a merry go round that Holly wasn't able to get off. No matter how hard she tried, she was stuck, rooted in the centre while everything spun around her. 

Her stomach churned and flipped and...She was dangerously close to losing what little food she had eaten; she could taste the bitter bile on her tongue. 

Don't be sick.

Don't think about it.

It was _fucking_ unacceptable. 

How could she fucking lose control like that? Forgetting where she was as hands gripped tightly around her, pulling her into memories she was desperately trying to push away, to forget about. 

She was supposed to be stronger than that. 

She couldn't afford to be weak...ever again.

"Holly."

Holly blinked in surprise as she looked up at Bucky. His blue eyes staring down at her intensely.

His eyebrows crinkled together, and he leaned a little closer to her. 

Holly swallowed slowly. 

"I'm fine."

She reached for her Occlumency shields, the icy shroud of ice and darkness and wrapped it around her mind like a blanket.

Even though she was finding it difficult to focus on anything shielding was like second nature to her now. 

The memories firmly locked away. 

She was in control. 

She was fine. 

She was fine. 

Holly straightened herself, refusing to cower for a second longer than she had already had been. 

She was a Potter, and that meant something. 

Bucky glanced at her, his blue eyes darkened as an eyebrow lifted, and his head tilted.

Yeah, it hadn't been convincing enough, and she knew it. 

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for Holly. We all have our demons, we all have our scars," Bucky said, his eyes moved to her forehead, trailed down to her neck, to her shoulder. His eyes narrowed, and a sharp piercing twinge struck her heart. 

Holly swallowed the lump in her throat, as Bucky continued cataloguing her scars. His eyes hardening with every single one he traced, cold fury stinging along her skin as he grew stiller with every breath he took. 

Until they traced over the words carved into her hand that was in his. 

Holly pulled her hand back and crossed her arms while throwing him a look of indifference. 

Holly wasn't going let it show that she felt more exposed and vulnerable right now than she had in a while. Holly knew it wasn't Bucky's fault, but she didn't need his anger on her behalf. 

She wasn't worth that. 

He continued, "Some of them are on the inside, rather than the outside."

"They say the ones that make you bleed internally are the deadliest of them," Holly said softly, crossing her arms a little tighter to her chest. 

Silence fell between them before Bucky broke it.

"How much do you know about me?"

Holly could see the empty hollowness in his eyes as he asked the question. Could hear the doubt in his voice and see the way he angled his body, so his left arm wasn't in her direct line of sight. 

Holly softened her features and met his gaze with her own. Hoping that she was conveying that he didn't need to hide or be ashamed of his past. She wasn't going to judge him. 

"I know who they say _you_ are," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully as she offered a small smile of acceptance. "I am only just starting to get to know Bucky Barnes, and that is the only _you_ that is important. Everything else, everything the media twist...it's just white noise."

He gave her a forced smile. 

"I have nightmares. Both waking and asleep. Flashes, memories of what I have done...the people I have killed."

His whole body tensed. His eyes closed as if waiting for her to recoil in disgust and not wanting to witness it. 

Anger surged through her, icy and biting like a snowstorm and unforgiving to any that would cross her path should she give it an inch to explode forward. 

Hydra had so much to answer for. For what they did to her, but most especially for what they did to Bucky and the children they were taking. 

"That wasn't your fault. What happened to you _was_ wrong on so many fucking levels, and _they fucking_ deserve to burn in hell for it," Holly said.

"I killed them. I pulled the trigger. I plunged the knife into their hearts, snapped _their _necks. Hydra created a weapon. An Asset. A Soldier. And it's still a part of me, just waiting beneath the surface, waiting for a moment of control to slip...the nightmares, they make me lose control," Bucky breathed, "They made me into a _monster."_

His eyes were ice cold when they meet hers, and Holly was hyperaware of the tension in the air shifting slightly. Yesterday, and this morning, Bucky had been holding _something_ back, trying to appear smaller and less dangerous than he was. That something had bled through a little in the gym, and it was flowing through now.

He was filling the room like he had that day when they had first met with the contracts, a predator prowling in a cage with thin breakable bars.

Yet Holly couldn't find it in herself to be afraid. Because while Bucky Barnes was a predator, he wasn't a monster. A monster wouldn't have helped her through her panic attack, wouldn't have had the patience to do so, would have seen the weakness and ripped her to shreds. A monster wouldn't have opened himself up _here_ and now, to try and make her know that _he_ knew what it was like living with demons, even if neither of them knew the names to those demons.

Holly reached out to touch him without thinking, and paused, his eyes tracking the movement, silence had fallen over them, both painfully aware that her hand was hovering in the air. 

She looked at him, silently asking for permission, he looked at her, and a flicker of something breezed across her skin.

Holly took that as permission. 

She touched his arm and gave a gentle squeeze.

"Our choices show us what we truly are," Holly said softly. Recalling Dumbledore's words to her from so long ago, when she had started seeing the similarities between Voldemort and herself. It was one of the few pieces of advice from the old headmaster that she still clung to. Because it was so damn important.

"We all have the capability inside of us to do monstrous things," Holly continued, as she looked up to meet Bucky's gaze. "The monsters are those who have the choice and still chose to do those monstrous things, for their own needs, their own fulfilment, and pleasure. Monsters prey on others; they feed and abuse others for so many different reasons but usually because they want to. Because they enjoy it, and the power it brings them."

Holly gnawed at her bottom lip. Bucky's eyes burned intensely as he looked at her, she swallowed the sigh of frustration that was threatening to escape. Holly understood self-loathing, understood the feeling of hopelessness and the desire for things you weren't sure you fully deserved.

Bucky was running just like her from a part of him he hated, despised and considered unworthy.

She searched for the right words, the all important words that would sing truth to him. Because it was a truth, a truth that sung in her blood.

"Hydra is the monster. Hydra took away your choices, stripped you of your identity. You didn't have the ability to stop them, nobody would have. They took everything from you Bucky and that wasn't your fault." 

She looked at Bucky for a long time, letting everything show in her eyes as she continued softly, "I know monsters intimately. I met evil when I was just a child, believe me when I say this; _you_ are not a monster Bucky. You were never a monster, even when you couldn't remember who you were."

Bucky was still. 

His eyes were hollow and full of pain. Holly could see it, bleeding through for a single heartbeat, before dark waves of cold anger crashed through them and pushed the vulnerability from sight. 

She could almost taste it, at the back of her throat, it wasn't anger directed at her, or even at Hydra, but rather at what she had hinted at, what her words had implied. 

Holly wished she could take it back, at least that part, the truth that she knew monsters intimately, that she met evil as a child. 

She didn't need the Avengers to look any more closely at her than they already were. 

She couldn't afford to slip up any further. 

Yet Bucky had shared a part of himself. A part of himself that filled him with pain, to try and show her that it was okay to fall apart, and she found herself doing the same because it pained her to hear Bucky refer to himself as a monster. 

Bucky reached for her hand on his arm and took it in his own and squeezed.

Holly wetted her lips and swallowed slowly. 

Neither of them was willing to break eye contact. 

She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She could feel the heat in Bucky's palm. 

She should move away, she should say something...anything. 

But she didn't.

_They_ didn't.

Bucky seemed content in soaking in the silence with her. 

Her hand in his. 

An understanding had fallen between them that neither could ignore, and yet they didn't voice the questions that were spinning in the air.

The lift doors slid open with a quiet hiss, and they both looked away from the other. Bucky led her out, her hand still tucked in his and Holly wasn't sure _why_ it felt comforting. 

Maybe it was down to the fact he hadn't pressured her into talking about what had happened but instead had offered a part of himself up to her. 

"Thank you," she said because she _understood_ the weight of his words in a way she wasn't sure he realised. 

"Thank you for not asking, for helping, for talking -," Holly trailed off, unsure what to say.

Bucky gave her a long look, "I wanted you to know. You needed to know. All things considered."

"You don't owe me anything, you know. The marks -" Holly paused, shaking her head. "The marks don't mean you owe me an explanation. You and Steve don't owe me anything."

And they really didn't. 

The last thing Holly wanted was them to feel obligated to her. She didn't deserve anything, she didn't deserve to come in and _ruin_ what they had. 

And that was what she did best, ruin things she touched. Bucky wasn't the monster, she was. A freak, an abomination. Devastating everything she touched.

She was tainted goods, and she would only infect them. 

"I know the marks aren't about owing each other things. Relationships, in general, shouldn't be about owing each other things or keeping a tally, not if they want to work."

"I've never been very good with relationships, of any kind," Holly admitted. Even with Hermione and Ron it was a struggle to fully open up and they knew her best.

The Dursleys had left their own marks on her, ingrained into her from an early age that she owed the world a great deal for the barest of things. For scraps at the table, for crumbs of affection that came few and far between. 

Even now, years later, Holly couldn't shake those lessons. 

Bucky looked at her, "I'm not very good at them now. But I would like to get to know you."

"I'm not that interesting."

He gave her a slight smile before looking to the side, "Only the interesting people claim to be uninteresting."

"I damage everything I touch."

"I'm already damaged," he countered. 

"No, you aren't," Holly said softly. 

"It's a nice thought, but it doesn't change that I am." He smiled sadly.

Holly flicked her tongue over her lips before trailing off in a way that she hoped made sense.

"Scars whether they are physical, psychological or emotional are signs that you survived what tried to destroy you. Hydra hasn't won Bucky, because even though you may feel broken, damaged you are still strong." Holly paused, meeting his gaze with her own, and letting her walls down just a little, just enough to convey what she was trying to say.

"You are strong enough to survive, to hold yourself together and keep moving even though you feel like shattering. You're a survivor."

"Did you survive someone trying to destroy you?" He asked suddenly, the weight of his gaze pressing down on her.

Holly stiffened, before forcing herself to relax. She didn't think he was being nosy, but rather trying to get a reading on her. She wanted to deny that anybody had tried to destroy her, but she couldn't lie about it either. All she could do was give the easiest of answers. 

"I'm still here," her lips twitched slightly. "I'm just saying don't let Hydra define you any more than what they have already stolen from you. You are the man who offered me his hand in friendship, despite having every reason to not to and that's the person I want to get to know. Not be blinded by others opinions of him, especially when they don't know him."

She blinked as she wetted her lips. 

They both knew what that statement meant. 

An offering. 

Testing the ground to see if it would break, crumble beneath them. Both of them stating they would try, in their own way when neither were very good with others.

"There's not much to know. I'm still discovering myself."

"We can take it one day at a time."

They held each other's gazes a second longer before Bucky turned and looked behind her towards the lifts before glancing back down at her.

"Banner will be up in a moment, we need to get that nose looked at."

"I think it's stopped bleeding. And I am pretty sure it would hurt more if it were broken," Holly argued, feeling far more vulnerable than she liked. She wasn't sure she was quite ready to face Bruce. 

He didn't comment, just led her to the luxury sofa and motioned for her to sit down. 

"How about this, Banner looks at your nose, and I order us some lunch."

Holly tilted her head ever so slightly, as she looked at him. She _knew_ what he was trying to do, a compromise, giving her a choice.

"Okay," Holly answered because logically, she had no room to argue. Not without raising even more questions and Holly had no doubt a few had arisen already after today. With a soft sigh she sat down on the sofa. 

"What do you want?"

"Um, I'm not sure." She shrugged.

"Pizza."

"I've not actually had pizza since I've been here," Holly said.

"Now that's sacrilege!"

Holly laughed, wincing at the dull aching throb as she moved her jaw, reminding her that even though she said she was okay, it still hurt. 

Bucky grimaced, "Sorry."

"Don't be, I should have dodged."

His eyes darkened.

"What do you want on your pizza?"

"Ham and pineapple."

Bucky twitched his lips ever so slightly.

"What?"

"Sam is going to hate that."

"He's not a fan of pineapple?"

"Not on a pizza."

"Doesn't know what he's missing."

His lips twitched again. Not quite a smile, but amusement was clear to see. 

He moved away from her, phone in hand. Allowing Holly to sweep her gaze over the penthouse.

Besides the personal quarters, it was the only level that hadn't been included on her tour of the building. 

The penthouse was vast; wide and open. Floor to ceiling glass windows covered three sides of the penthouse giving it as much natural light near the seated area, allowing two levels to overlook New York City. The city's skyline glistened in the sun, looking magical from this high up. 

It gave an impression of a man in his high castle, though Holly supposed it was more standing watchful and observing from the Avengers point of view.

The kitchen lined the only supporting wall that Holly could see and had shinning grey worktops and modern white cupboards. An island with breakfast bar stools separated it from the rest of the living space. Stairs on either side of the kitchen led to a balcony styled landing that housed bookshelves before curving round to another set of stairs leading upwards. 

There was a large dining room table, a well-stocked bar, a pool table and a large flat-screen TV that hung from the ceiling. 

It was modern, stylish, and elegant. Yet Holly could see the personal stamps dotted around. Magazines, books left open on the marked page. A throw draped across a chair. Weapons in strategically placed locations from what she could see. Holly felt as if she was intruding. 

This was not the party deck where outsiders gathered and rubbed shoulders with Tony Stark and the others.

This is where they lived. 

Where they breathed and relaxed from preying eyes.

The lift hissed open, and Holly felt her entire body stiffen as Bruce stepped out with medical supplies. 

He gave her an encouraging smile as he approached her, cautiously, and an overwhelming sense of shame filtered back through her. 

Holly wanted to run, to fucking hide. 

Her eyes followed him, searching for any sign that would indicate he would attack. 

Breathe.

She just needed to breathe. 

None of them had given her any indication _they_ were going to hurt her. 

If they did, screw her cover, she would make them bleed. 

Bucky was by her side before Bruce was even in touching distance, whether _he_ had felt her through the bonds, bonds she didn't want to think about but was painfully aware of how much stronger they were running between them. 

He was standing close enough to her that she could feel the heat radiating off him. 

His presence was comforting. 

_Careful._

She needed to be cautious. 

It wouldn't do for her to ever forget that.

Even if she was willing to give an inch and try to be friends.

* * *

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he watched Holly and Banner. 

She was good at hiding her discomfort, good at hiding any pain she might be feeling. 

Except in the small details he was able to see. 

She fidgeted. 

It was a minuscule movement barely noticeable, a finger rapping against her thigh, as she otherwise held herself perfectly still. 

He could hear her pulse racing beneath her skin, a shift in her breathing when Banner pressed against her cheek. 

She stiffened every time Banner moved to touch her, and Bucky couldn't help but wonder whether she was used to physical contact that wasn't associated with pain.

She was holding herself taut; her eyes darting between the two of them. 

Assessing the threat, the danger she was in, just as a cornered animal would. 

He wasn't sure when her mindset had shifted to danger, and he reached for the bonds without thinking, and he was hit by a tangled ball of jittery energy. Bucky sent a soothing current of reassurance and security. 

She wasn't in danger here. Not from them. 

Not from him..._not at the moment at least. _

Her eyes jumped to him. Her gaze burning intensely and a sharp piercing pain kneaded him through the bonds. Energy tense and tight, and the image of sharp icy knives pointing straight at him flashed in his mind. 

His eyes widened in surprise. 

A challenge. 

A warning. 

_Tread carefully._

The impending danger hanging heavily in the air between them. Bucky had never seen or had the impression through the bonds in such a manner before. Steve was emotions, tastes, communication as clear as day. Steve withdrew, closed the metaphysical door when he wanted privacy. They both did. Holly hadn't shut the connection off, hadn't withdrawn from him. He could still feel her through those threads, the energy like an electrical storm that he was standing in the middle of. But she had given him a warning. A warning not to push. It was different. 

Bucky gave the slightest nod, _message received loud and clear,_ and eased back from the bonds, giving her the metaphysical space she needed.

It was a fine line between being supportive and comforting through the bonds and the all-consuming overwhelming force they could be. Where you couldn't untangle where one began, and the other ended. 

The bonds may be stronger between them now, and that couldn't be undone, and Bucky didn't regret it. Not when it had helped Holly when she needed it but using them was a personal invasion that could quickly turn into something far worse if abused, and that was a road Bucky had no intention of walking down. Even accidentally. 

He and Steve trod carefully with the bonds when it came to each other, Bucky would need to do so even more so with Holly, especially since they didn't know each other that well. 

She had every right to give him the warning.

Especially when her emotions were so turbulent. 

She was protecting herself. 

Bucky's mind raced over their conversation moments before, she had been offering him comfort, accepting his past without so much as a blink of an eye, and while he couldn't make heads or tails of her easy acceptance of him, especially when he didn't deserve it, he instead focused on her what she had said. What she hadn't said. What he had been able to determine from the silence in-between.

Admitting she wasn't good at relationships. Warning him that she damaged everything she touched. That she knew monsters intimately. That she had met evil as a child.

His eyes trailed over the scars once again, her workout gear showing more skin than she had allowed in the two days since she had started working with them.

The round sunburst on her right forearm, as if a spike had skewered her. A long line running down the length of her arm. What looked to be a set of slash marks on a shoulder, a bite on the left side of her neck that looked way too much like human teeth. 

Lightning spirals down an arm, Bucky had no idea what would have caused that particular pattern. It was too neat, too precise for it to be a scar from a chemical. Knives were out of the question as well. Then there was the brand on her shoulder. 

An ugly skull with a snake slithering out of its open mouth, twisting round. Seared onto her left shoulder, it almost covered it completely. That one was personal. He didn't know the details, but Bucky knew that. Bar those that still practised human branding as a rite of passage, or those who saw it as a form of body modification. Branding was a punishment or used to identify an enslaved person. 

Somebody had wanted to punish Holly. To subjugate her in a way that she would never be able to forget. He ground his teeth together as ice surged through his veins. His muscles quivered, and he found himself tensing with every breath he took. 

He wanted to hit something, to rip, and shred, and bathe in the blood and destruction of _something_. 

The Soldier stirred. 

Like a switch flicking in his brain, the monster that was born of blood, pain and death and thrived in the darkness opened its eyes. 

Wild energy rippled through him. 

Calculating eyes pushed to the surface. 

_Not now. _

He couldn't lose control right now. 

The Soldier's eyes moved downwards, there were other scars crisscrossed along her skin, other marks that signalled a violent past, but the one that his attention fixed on after the brand was the scratched words on her left hand, 'I must not tell lies,' each word to prominent to be anything but deliberate. 

Somebody had carved those words into her flesh. Somewhere visible, somewhere _she_ would see them every day and somewhere others would see them. 

A lesson. 

Something she would never be able to forget, just like the brand. 

_They _couldn't help but wonder whether the person responsible was still alive, and knew that if they were and _he_ found them, they wouldn't remain that way for long.

Bucky wasn't entirely sure which of them thought that particular thought, but he knew he wouldn't even feel guilty over the kill either.

He felt a nudge through the bonds. Steve asking if _he_ was okay. 

Bucky froze. 

He clearly had projected that particular thought louder than he had intended. His eyes swept over to Holly, who was looking up at him, her green eyes asking the same question.

The Soldier snarled. _Mine. Protect._

Holly reached for his hand wrapping hers around his, Bucky couldn't decide if it was too comfort him or herself, but the warmth that filled him eased the knotted ball inside of him.

Allowing him to swallow it, it was like consuming a writhing ball of snakes as he pushed back at that ever-present side of him. 

The Soldier pushed back, hissing and showing teeth, back arched like an angry cat.

Bucky didn't back down from the challenge, he was looking into the abyss that was a part of his soul. A void he could never escape from that was living and breathing inside of him. Always switched on, lying in wait to strike at a moment's notice and take over. 

He couldn't give an inch. Not for a second. 

Except the Soldier didn't push again. There was a tense moment of stillness between the two of them before the Soldier eased slipping away from the surface and back to its slumber. 

The Soldier had tested him, but usually there was more fight to it. More of a wrestle for control and dominance. 

The tension eased. Bucky was still hyperaware of everything, but he wasn't holding himself ready for a fight. 

_I'm on my way,_ Steve urged.

Holly's eyes had never left him. 

Bucky swallowed slowly. 

_I'm fine, _he assured. 

He knew it was pointless, though. Steve would still rush to his side; he did whenever he felt the Soldier stir.

He was usually better at registering when Steve was close by, often could feel him long before Steve entered the building. 

He caught Holly's eyes, her pupils widened ever so slightly. 

Had she heard that particular statement? Had she felt Steve through him? 

He felt her pull away, pull away from the bonds and retreat behind closed doors and fortified walls. 

That answered that question then.

He turned his attention to Banner as Banner was speaking to Holly.

"....but we will know for certain in the next couple of days. I will get you some ice to put on it for the next twenty minutes, and you will need to keep that up for the next day or so. It will help reduce the swelling."

"Yeah, okay," Holly hummed in agreement.

Banner moved away to the kitchen, disposing of his gloves as he did so. 

Bucky looked down at Holly, who was actively looking everywhere but him. They needed to talk, properly talk, the three of them, but he doubted that was going to happen right now. Not if Steve was returning, it meant that Natasha would be with him as well, and Clint would be returning from the gym and Sam was due back any minute. 

He hadn't thought this through.

She was about to get ambushed...again by them. 

Holly pulled her hand out of his, "Steve's returned to the tower and on his way up?"

"Yeah, he won't be alone either. Natasha will be with him. I hadn't thought they would return so soon..." he rubbed a hand through his hair, "Sam is due back as well. I don't want to over face you with all of us at once."

"This is yours, _their_ home. I will be fine Bucky, honestly."

"You and Steve -," he started, stopping suddenly, "you haven't even talked."

Holly opened her mouth to respond but fell silent when the elevator doors slid open and Steve, Natasha and Sam stepped off. Bucky could see her shoulders stiffen again ever so slightly before she forced herself to relax.

Steve froze, his gaze flickering between the two of them, frowning slightly. Natasha tilted her head curiously even Sam hesitated. 

Banner paused for a second, before continuing towards Holly to hand her the ice pack and a thin cloth to wrap it around. 

Bucky moved from Holly's side and made his way towards Steve. 

The heated weight of Steve's gaze pressing down on him, the questions burning his skin.

"What happened? I thought I felt..." Steve stopped abruptly, his brow creasing as he watched him closely. 

"I'm fine. Holly took a punch to the nose during training, needed to get it checked out," he answered.

"Medical?" Natasha asked eyebrows raised slightly.

Bucky lowered his voice ever so slightly, casting a glance back at Holly who was engaged in conversation with Banner, and not paying them the slightest bit of attention, or at least it appeared she wasn't. 

"I took her there, but she had a panic attack."

"In medical?" Steve frowned as he glanced at Holly. 

"Yeah."

"PTSD?" Sam asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Holly.

"Could be, but I can't say for certain if it was," Bucky said.

"And it was definitely in Medical?" Steve asked. 

"She was fucking trembling as I lead her to it but seeing Banner approach her in a white coat, pushed her further," he answered. 

"White coat syndrome?" Sam prompted. 

"I don't think it's that simple," Bucky hesitated, darting another glance towards Holly. On the surface, she gave nothing away as she talked with Banner, but he was beginning to get the impression that Holly was good at hiding things. 

"She has a lot of scars, Stevie. Fuck, scars that nobody should ever have. Half of them, I can't even work out what caused them, other than somebody has done them deliberately. There are words carved into her flesh on her left hand...and then there is the brand."

"Branding?" Natasha asked her voice a fraction colder than usual; her green eyes hardened as she crossed her arms, tilted her head to the side and turned to look at Holly. 

"Yeah," he swallowed the bitter taste of bile and concentrated on breathing. 

Steve's anger leaked through the bonds. It boiled beneath the surface, prickled along his skin as his friend tried to reel it in. His stomach churned with it, his own anger was like a frozen wasteland, reaching for the cold depths that lived within him. Steve had always been fire, had always been the raging inferno that stood up to any injustice he saw. Yet despite the hot anger, Steve was in control. 

"We don't know the facts. We can't speculate. Sam, you are the best in judging how to approach this," Natasha said, shifting to look up at Steve.

"Cautiously. We haven't exactly given Holly a reason to open up and trust us, not with the contract, not with the awkward tension that is going on between the three of you," Sam answered, his gaze flickering between Steve and Bucky. "We can't push."

"I've ordered pizza. Enough for all of us, though I hadn't expected the two of you to be back so soon," Bucky said, looking at Steve. 

He hadn't expected them to be back. 

"Later," Steve grumbled, "We will discuss it all later."

Bucky could tell from Steve's tone, that _something_ was bothering him. 

He threw him a pointed look, "You okay punk?"

Steve gave him a tight smile, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Bucky wasn't sure if he believed him or not, but the tension in his shoulders eased a little, as he nodded in acknowledgement.

Steve didn't give anyone a chance to say anything further as he moved forward, taking off his jacket and hanging it over the back of a bar stool as he made his way towards the kitchen. 

"Holly would you like a drink?" Steve asked.

Silence filled the room as they waited for the answer as if they were all holding their breath to see what would happen. 

It was the first thing Steve had _said_ to Holly, the first interaction with her. Bucky could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she flickered between the two of them before she answered. 

"Can I just have water please."

And they breathed, almost collectively in sync with each other; Natasha moved to the breakfast bar and sat down, her positioning a clear statement that she was offering whatever support Steve needed from her. 

Sam moved to the sofa and slid in the seat next to Banner, and for a moment, Bucky watched it all. 

It was a start, not the greatest, but it was something, and since Steve had been actively avoiding her since the signing of the contracts it was something.

With a soft sigh, Bucky moved to the sofa.

It was a start, even if it raised a thousand questions.

* * *

Holly eyed the lift out of the corner of her eye.

Could she make it before anybody noticed?

Probably not. 

Not with the way everyone was watching closely. 

She was grateful for the ice-pack as it allowed her to keep her hands busy and stopped them fidgeting nervously. 

Holly was pretty sure she preferred the heated intensity that had been radiating from Steve while she had been signing the contract. 

Anything but - this awkwardness as they sat almost opposite each other, with Bucky on one side of her and Sam on the other, Bruce in a chair sipping his green tea and Romanoff watching her curiously. 

She was a bug trapped in a jar. 

Neither of them knew quite what to say to the other and instead had fallen into an awkward silence that was stretching to a painful point of no return.

Holly was an outsider. 

Intruding in their personal space, and while Bucky had invited her and nobody had uttered a word of complaint, her presence had set them on edge. 

She raised the ice-pack to her check, using the movement to risk a glance at Steve. 

A deep look crossed his face, his jaw set tight, but the alertness in his eyes told her he saw everything. 

He had uttered two sentences to her, six words in the first and three in the second. 

She had responded in kind, six words followed by two. 

Holly had never found silence uncomfortable before, but both of them were looking at the other when they thought the other wasn't looking; only they ended up catching each other's eyes more often resulting in them quickly looking away the moment their eyes connected. 

It was getting ridiculous. 

Except Holly was pretty sure, she had lost the ability to speak. 

Holly pulled the ice-pack away from her nose, rested it on her lap and reached for the glass of water on the table. 

She took a sip. 

_Pull yourself together._

That had sounded way too much like Hermione, and Holly felt a pang of longing. Merlin, she wished her friend was here now. Hermione would know what to do, would know exactly what to say to get Holly to actually open her mouth and speak. 

Holly saw the wince cross Steve's face before he schooled his features to hide whatever he was feeling. 

"Sorry," Holly grimaced, as she strengthened her shields and made sure nothing leaked through the bonds. 

"You don't have to apologise, it takes a while to get used to exactly what leaks through," Steve answered. 

"Hopefully the bare minimum," Holly answered with a small curve of her lips. "Otherwise you are going to start craving cookie dough ice-cream at really odd times."

Romanoff snorted ever so slightly, drawing Holly's attention to her, green eyes twinkling with slight amusement, Steve looked almost helpless, as if he wasn't entirely sure how to answer that statement. 

Bucky it seemed took pity on him. 

"Play nice Holly."

"I am."

Steve recovered, though his gaze darted between the two of them. 

"You are fairly good at shielding already."

Thank you Occlumency and years of compartmentalising everything she was ever feeling or thinking. 

Living with the Dursleys, it seemed had at least thrown up one good thing. 

"I will work on it," she said. 

Silence fell between them all again. 

Until Sam, 'don't believe the lies Barnes has said about him', offered a different path to lead the conversation on. 

Holly could have kissed him. 

"How are you finding working here so far?"

"Interesting. I'm learning a lot more about medical professionals than I ever thought I would," she answered with a tight smile, "Plus I'm pretty sure I'm going to need a map to remember what is on each floor. This place is -"

"Huge," Sam supplied, "It took me a while to figure where everything was."

"Not really," Holly said, "I'm used to finding my way around huge places. My boarding school was in a castle and had more secret passageways than we could keep track of." 

She took another sip of water, "It had dodgy steps you needed to avoid, and suits of armour that looked the same so you never could rely on them as markers to where anything was," Holly answered, "I was going to say there is just a lot to remember."

"You went to boarding school?" Steve asked.

Holly blinked in surprise, "Um, yeah. My parents went there and my dad's parents, and their parents. Kind of a family tradition."

"Where was the school?" Romanoff queried, her head tilting to the side. 

"Scotland, though I never really worked out exactly _where._ Just that it was in the middle of the highlands by a lake and forest."

_Caution_.

"What was it like?" Sam asked smoothly, forcing her attention back on to him. 

They were good at that. Holly had to give them points, but she knew interrogation techniques for what they were. 

"Cold winters, beautiful summers," she answered quickly, giving the barest of information.

"What about your favourite subjects?"

Holly took another sip, how exactly was she going to answer that?

"I can't say I had a particular favourite. I enjoyed a lot of my lessons, though I can't say I was that academic. I did enjoy our Astronomy lessons though; they were interesting and looking at today's insight, more relevant than my eleven-year-old mind considered."

Astrology was close enough to allow her to get by with that particular answer.

Sam snorted, "They don't exactly prepare you for alien invasions when you are learning about the planets."

"Not really." Holly grimaced, "History was interesting though the Professor was a practically a ghost. He taught my parents and grandparents."

Holly took another sip, of her drink, thinking about Hogwarts made her realise how much she actually missed the Wizarding World, missed the beauty of being able to explore magic every day, of seeing the wonderful wonders it created. 

"I guess Defence and sports were the things I was good at. But we ended up with a different Professor every year, so the standard of the lessons changed yearly."

"Different each year, surely that would have an impact on the grades of the students?" Banner frowned. 

"We used to joke the position was cursed. The professors never lasted longer than a year. The first Professor I had died. Second-year took a blow to a head, which left him with some issues. The third-year Professor was amazing, but handed in his notice due to a medical condition," Holly answered, "Fourth-year while an actual great teacher, turned out his credentials were fake as shit, and he wasn't who he said he was. He also turned out to be a complete psycho."

"In what way?" Sam asked.

"Turned out he was a member of a terrorist organisation. Trying to recruit the offspring of old families with more money than sense," Holly grimaced, "Then fifth-year was an evil toad."

Holly rubbed her thumb over the words on her left hand absently, stopping when she noticed Steve and Bucky's eyes trailing the movement. 

"And the sixth year was my old chemistry teacher, and we didn't exactly get along when he was teaching chemistry. I dropped out at the end of the year."

"At sixteen?" Steve asked, piercing her with a sharp look. Holly sensed Bucky stiffening at the side of her.

"Yeah," she replied, wetting her lips and pushing a smile across her lips.

"Why?" Bucky asked with a frown.

"Life throws you curveballs, mine ended up with me on the streets for a while, so returning for my final year was kind of out of the question," Holly answered with a shrug. 

It was as close to the truth she could say other than uttering the words, 'I was on the run and had a bounty of my head and trying to survive and overthrow a government and destroy an evil wizard'. 

The awkwardness was back again, with an added heat of anger brushing across her skin. 

She wasn't going to try and work that one out.

"What about all of you, what did you like in school?" she asked, trying to divert the attention away from her and back onto safe subjects.

"I always knew I wanted to join the air force, so maths and science were where I focused my time and energy," Sam answered, "It was only after I joined that I realised where my calling was and completed my EMT certificate and the training I needed."

Holly looked at Sam, "Pararescue airman, right?"

"Yep," he beamed.

"And that's where you got your wings from?"

He smirked, "That's where the Falcon was born."

Holly smirked at him, "I have to say I did wonder."

Bucky snorted next to her. 

"That's just cruel."

"Flying is pretty cool," Holly soothed. She would be the first up in the air if she had a choice. 

Bucky groaned, "You had to say that."

"Shut up Barnes, at least someone appreciates me," Sam sniped.

"Knock it off you two," Steve said, stopping them in their tracks. 

Holly had a feeling that was a regular thing he ended up having to say. 

"What about you?" Holly asked him, turning to look at Steve.

She knew Bruce was all about the science. Romanoff seemed content not answering at all. But then if half of what she had read was true, Romanoff didn't precisely have an everyday learning experience. 

"Art, I always loved art. I liked History and literature. We both enjoyed reading," Steve answered. 

Holly glanced at Bucky, "I liked my science as well. I remember going to the Stark Expo before I was shipped out," Bucky said.

"Stark Expo?" Holly frowned. 

"An exposition that brings minds together from around the world and combines them to try and develop new inventions to improve the quality of life for mankind and the world in the future," Banner answered, "Tony's dad started it, and Tony restarted it a few years ago."

"Howard promised a flying car in 43. Funny, I thought he would have actually achieved it, but here we are in the future flying cars still absent," Steve smiled fondly. 

Holly couldn't help but remember her own experience with a flying car. All it had taken was a little bit of magic, and Arthur Weasley had achieved something that muggles appeared to have wanted to succeed over seventy years ago.

Granted the magic had given the Ford a life of its own, but it had saved both hers and Ron's life in their second year. 

"I think a lot of people were disappointed at the turn of the 21st century. A lot of predictions of what the world would look like, most of them involved a flying car in one aspect."

The lift doors slid open once again, and the smell of pizza wafted through the penthouse. 

"You better have ordered a meat feast," Barton chimed as he stepped off carrying several large boxes of pizza.

"I ordered two," Bucky countered, "along with the vegetarian, pepperoni and chilli, sweet chilli chicken and two ham and pineapples."

"Oh god, there's two of you!" Sam moaned. 

"Better than anchovy pizza," Bucky stated. 

"No man, I'm telling you, the only good pizza topping is a meat topping. Nothing else."

"I take it this is an argument the two of you have had before?" Holly asked in amusement.

"One of many," Bucky answered.

The six of them moved from the chairs and sofa and made their way to the dining room table joining Barton. Steve and Bucky gathered plates from the kitchen while Romanoff rearranged the table to fashion some order with the pizzas.

Holly watched them; the way they moved around each other, passing things to another without a word uttered showed they were to a degree used to each other's quirks. 

"How's the nose?" Barton asked. 

"It's okay. I should have dodged quicker," Holly said as she sat down. 

"Williams got you good and proper there, but you managed to turn the tables pretty quick on him. Where did you learn to do that?"

Holly thanked Bucky for the plate he passed her, though she heard the slight warning growl at the mention of Williams. Turning her attention back to Barton, she answered the best she could.

"Nowhere in particular. I kind of learnt all over. Travelled quite a bit. One of my dad's old comrades taught me a couple of things as did my godfather and uncle."

"So, no formal training?" His eyebrow rose with the question as he studied her. 

"Not to any particular style of martial arts."

It wasn't exactly a lie; the Auror training program hadn't trained their Aurors to a style of physical training. 

"You were holding back, though."

Holly shrugged, "Better to be underestimated than to overestimate your own skills and it doesn't hold up when you need them. I didn't think I would stand a chance against former Shield or military individuals."

"Leave the shop talk when around the table. Nobody lets a perfectly good pizza go to waste," Sam grumbled as he reached for a slice of a meat feast. 

Holly reached for her own slice of pizza and took a bite. 

It tasted better than it smelled Holly wasn't sure it would be possible, but it ticked every box it needed to.

Why the hell had she waited so long to try pizza in New York, she would never know. 

"It's good right," Bucky stated lowly. 

Holly hummed her agreement before finishing what was in her mouth. 

"I really can't believe I waited so long to try the pizza here."

"Seven months wasted," Bucky chuckled. 

"I think I am going to be living off pizza for a while."

Holly took another bite, happily listening to the conversation around her, aware that both Bucky and Steve were watching her closely. 

She gave a slight half-smile in acknowledgement before taking another bite.

Holly managed to clean off four slices of pizza before declaring herself full. Bucky finished off the rest of her pizza, with a sly reference to super-soldier serum and an increased appetite. 

She snorted at him before telling him her friend from school was a big eater, and _he_ didn't have the excuse of the super-soldier serum, so clearly it was a man thing.

* * *

Steve watched Bucky walk Holly to the elevator as he quietly wiped the plates dry in the kitchen.

"Bucky seems comfortable with Holly."

He glanced at Natasha before his eyes darted back to them.

"Bucky was always good with the ladies, especially the pretty ones," he answered as he wiped a glass and placed it on the drainboard. 

"You admit she is pretty then," Natasha teased. 

He didn't acknowledge the remark. _Holly_ was pretty. Precisely the kind of pretty that would have had him fumbling for his words and shying away into himself back before the serum. Not that the serum had magically given him the ability to speak to women. 

Peggy had him tongue-tied more often than not and left him feeling utterly confused and helpless. 

He couldn't help but see some comparisons between the two of them. Pretty and confident, British with painted red lips.

"Bucky is a different person now. He's distant with most of us; he circles on the edges, interacts when he needs to but doesn't exactly initiate anything with anyone but you...and Sam to a degree. He's getting better, and you can tell he is trying, but he still holds himself back."

Steve turned to look at her, "Except with Holly."

"It would appear so," she hummed in agreement. 

Steve knew she was right. He could see it as well. The subtle moving closer to her, shielding her, offering her support. He had felt it when Bucky had pulled on their bonds earlier to try and provide comfort to Holly when she had been in the midst of her panic. 

It had hit him like a tornado, and _he_ had only been getting the fringes of it.

Just as he had felt the Solider stirring from its slumber. 

It was why he had asked what had happened before anything else because he _knew_ something had happened. Had felt it happen. 

He had tracked every movement the two of them made around each other. He could see the wariness in Holly, her uncertainty beating beneath his skin as if it was his own, whenever she looked at either him or Bucky. His eyes had followed the slow curve of her lips as she teased _him_, smiled at Bucky, laughed at Sam.

Her eyes holding intensity to them, just as they had the first time he had locked gazes with them. Eyes that had stopped him in his tracks and haunted his dreams ever since. 

Green eyes that had him itching to sketch them, to capture the burning fire she had in them, to unravel the layers that hid in their depths. Green eyes that reached into his soul.

Steve couldn't help but notice the slight smile on Bucky's lips as they talked, bantered. Bucky was relaxed, not entirely, he doubted Bucky would ever fully be able to relax, it was too ingrained in him to be hyperaware of his environment. 

But it was nice to see. 

He had hoped, had wished that Bucky would be able to open up to him by now.

But perhaps getting to know Holly would be good for Bucky. 

And _he_ had to learn to be okay with that, even as Bucky had to learn to be okay with his own interest in Peggy. 

Except it hurt. 

A lot. 

Steve swallowed the anger, the hurt and doubt over exactly where he stood and what he wanted, and needed, and craved. He shoved down the curiosity over it all until all he had was calm stillness. 

A part of him wished, wished that all he had to worry about was the soulmarks and their meaning, and finding a working balance between them all, so they didn't tear each other to shreds.

But he couldn't. 

Not when danger was lurking in the shadows. 

Just out of sight, waiting for the moment to strike. 

_He_ had to be ready to counter any attack that came their way.

Too much was at stake. 

So he did the only thing he could. 

He pulled back.

Bucky's head snapped round to him the moment the elevator doors shut behind Holly. 

Steve could see the question burning in the man's gaze. 

Steve buried everything. 

Giving nothing away. 

Even so, his eyes drank in the sight of Bucky walking towards him. 

"Is she okay?" He asked, as Bucky reached the breakfast bar and leaned against the counter. 

His question signalled Sam, Clint and Bruce to gather around them. 

"She is refusing to go home, so she's agreed to work on the main operations floor, at least there will be others around her," Bucky answered. 

"Everyone reacts differently after a panic attack. If Holly is here and with others around her we can at least monitor her. At a distance," Sam said, "We don't want to overcrowd her."

"What happened?" Steve asked as he finished drying the last plate. 

Clint answered first, "We split them into pairs, in hindsight I probably shouldn't have paired her with Williams, but he's one of Starks new Security recruits, and she is a new recruit, so I wanted to judge their skill set."

"Williams, he's the guy that has expressed an interest in working on our floors with his application?" Natasha quizzed. 

"Yeah." Clint nodded, "Hill wanted a proper assessment before talking to Happy about moving him up to us."

Bucky snorted, "The guy is an asshole."

"I'm not arguing, the guy is an asshole, but that doesn't mean he isn't a workable asshole that we could use. Provided he meets the requirements," Clint agreed.

"Holly managed to turn the tables on him?" Natasha asked. 

"Really quickly as well, like a switch was flipped and Williams was on the floor," Bucky said.

"Her records don't show she has had any training, not the kind that would allow her to pull a move like that," Clint added.

"Her records don't indicate anything about half the scars she has either," Steve cut across, "What about in the medical with Holly?"

Bucky turned to look at him. 

"As I said before, she was trembling on her way up to the medical. I wrongly presumed it was her coming down from the adrenaline, we entered medical, she saw Banner and then..." he trailed off. 

It was clear that Holly was hiding something, and usually that would be fine, nobody owed anyone an explanation of their life story unless they wanted to give one. But they couldn't afford to risk not looking into it and have it bite them in the ass later.

"We keep an eye on her. Look into it further, something isn't adding up, but right now it's going to have to take a back seat. As long as she is okay enough to work."

"Physically, she should heal in a few days," Bruce supplied. 

Steve nodded.

"What happened?" Bucky asked. 

Steve looked at him, he still needed to talk with Bucky to make sure _he_ was okay after the Soldier pushing forward, but Steve knew his friend well enough to know he wouldn't discuss it in front of the others. 

He let out a sigh. 

"Jarvis can you request Tony and Hill please," Steve asked.

"That well then Cap," Sam whistled, as he refilled his glass up. 

"We are going to be busy for the next week, probably longer," he replied. 

They didn't have to wait long for Tony and Hill to make their way to the penthouse. 

"I have a feeling this is not the fake emergency I asked Jarvis to summon me for," Tony deadpanned. 

"There is a new shipment of weapons arriving soon. Our sources have confirmed they are Chitauri Guns," Steve replied with a frown.

"That would be a reasonable reason to get me out of the meeting Pepper wants me to sit in on," Tony retorted. 

"Fuck man!" Clint whistled, "That is going to one hell of a mess."

"How?" Sam asked. 

Natasha took the lead. 

"Six months after the Battle of New York, Shield became aware of a duo team of bank-robbers that had acquired a Chitauri Gun and had managed to activate it. Sitwell was sent to recover Item 47," Natasha answered, "Item 47 never made it to the Shield facility."

"Sitwell took it to Hydra," Bucky said as he folded his arms. 

"Yes, along with the duo, Benjamin Pollack and Claire Wise. Hydra files state that they acquired more guns and were able to activate them, which gives more assurance that they _have_ Loki's Specter," Natasha continued, "They have since then developed their own weapons using the Chitauri technology."

"When they are due?" Bucky asked.

"A week Friday. Two possible shipment locations, so we are going to have to split up to cover both of them," Steve answered as he looked at each of them. 

He could see the concern on Sam's face, but Tony and Bruce had a reminiscing look in their eyes. They knew, just as he did, exactly how dangerous those weapons would be. 

Bucky remained impassive. Not reacting to the news, but then he never did. Steve couldn't say he was surprised by it either; Hydra had always looked at developing weapons that would give them the advantage. 

Steve continued as he folded his own arms, "We don't know how many weapons are going to be in the shipment. Our source states that word has already hit the streets about availability, along with a price tag."

"Which means any jumped up street gang, Triad, Mob or Mafia is going to be scrambling to get their hands on them," Clint mused.

"Hydra wouldn't sell them all. Just enough to get whatever money they wanted, or enough for the weapons to hit the streets, cause some chaos, resulting in attention being diverted from whatever it is they want to divert from," Bucky said, softly. 

"It will be a blood bath if they hit the streets. The cops won't be able to tackle that kind of firepower," Sam added, a sigh of frustration escaping, "What's the plan?"

Steve ran through what they needed to do for a moment. His mind whirling as he ensured he had covered all possible angles, all scenarios. They had a short window of time to be ready, and they needed to be prepared. They needed to ensure those weapons didn't hit the streets, didn't stay in Hydra's hands. 

"We need to focus the next few days staking out each location. Looking for advantage points, learn the layout," Steve said firmly.

"I know we were hoping to hold off on bringing the new recruits in on this, but we can't afford that. We have two locations, and we can't all be in the same place. We need extra eyes and hands."

"Which of the new recruits?" Bucky asked, his eyes tightening, jaw clenching. 

Steve fixed him a pointed look before he answered, "All of them."

Neither of them looked away. Steve could see the coldness creeping in, could see the Soldier stirring once again, but he didn't give an inch. 

He couldn't afford to. 

He didn't have to, in the end, the barriers between them fell, and the bonds that ran between them fell silent. 

Bucky was just protective, a natural state his friend seemed to fall into. Bucky had done it on his behalf many times. 

"Phillips is definitely not ready for the field. Sawyer is an analyst. Jax and Tank are at the least trained, and I'm not going to lie I don't know with Holly," Clint said uncertainly, glancing between the two of them, "We don't know enough about her skill set if she is hiding more than she is saying." 

"Her résumé says she can handle the groundwork," Hill stated.

Steve glanced at Hill.

"Bit of a leap of faith though, if she is untested."

"So we test her," Natasha supplied.

"She's not, untested, though she needs work when it comes to weapons," Hill concluded, "it's just whether she can keep on par with the others."

"She can," Bucky said coldly as he folded his arms. He ignored the questioning looks thrown his way before continuing, "What Holly did in the gym shows she knows more than she is saying she does. And I will work with her on weapons."

"That will work. Don't get me wrong, she won't be an expert in nine days even with Bucky teaching her, but we have some I.C.E.R.s that she will be able to work with," Clint said, nodding his head in agreement. 

"That leaves you with Jax and Tank as well for the groundwork and a few of the others," Hill said, "I can work their schedules to help with stakeouts as well as giving you ample time to work with them in training."

"What about Sawyer?" Steve asked. 

"The analyst will be working with Jarvis and me to look through every scheduled shipment, he is another set of eyes needed here when you are on the ground," Hill replied.

Steve nodded, "Philips is the engineer, right?"

"She is," Hill confirmed.

He turned to look at Tony, "Can you use her to help come up with something to counter the weapons."

"I'm sure with my brain and brilliance and Bruce's beautiful mind, we can come up with something. An extra set of hands could be useful, as long as she doesn't slow us down."

"It won't be perfect, not in that time frame," Bruce countered. 

"Oh Brucie-bear, ye of little faith," Tony sassed. 

"Everything else can wait. As of now, the new recruits schedules are officially yours," Hill tapped her pad, "I suggest you use them." 

"We will brief them tomorrow," Steve nodded in agreement. 

He didn't like the idea, but he didn't see any other choice. There were eight of them once Thor returned, two locations, an unknown number of enemies, and an unknown number of weapons. If one of them were able to cause the amount of damage the Chitauri had during the invasion then it would be less than an easy task. If they were worse...Steve didn't really want to think about that. Add in the variable of any potential buyers on the night then they were greatly outnumbered. 

Steve knew they were good, all of them had their strengths, but Hydra had far longer to prepare for their capabilities and to counter them than they had to prepare for the shipment. 

"All right, let's get to work," Steve nodded, reaching for the bonds he tugged Bucky's thread with a clear message _he_ wanted a word. Steve didn't usually push on the bonds once Bucky had pulled back, but he needed to speak to him, and this was the only way he could do it without drawing more attention to the fact that the Solider had stirred twice in one day. 

It hadn't been that bad for a couple of months. 

Bucky levelled him with a hard cold look that almost looked vicious, and one of his hands closed into a fist. For a second Steve's breath caught in his chest and he couldn't help but shift into position, ready to move at a moment's notice as it looked as though the Soldier had bleed through yet again. 

Natasha moved closer to his side as the others dispersed quickly. 

He nodded curtly at Natasha; she hesitated for a moment before walking between them. 

She muttered something under her breath in Russian, something Steve knew Bucky understood by the way his eyes darted to her, before fixing back onto Steve. 

Steve took a breath, exuding calm and focus. This wasn't a confrontation, and the last thing he wanted was for Bucky to think that it was. 

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. 

"Fine."

"Want to talk about it?"

Bucky snorted, "Not particularly." 

"Bucky."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to know that you can be honest with me, and it's not going to make the slightest bit of difference," he answered his voice a little sad. "I'm not going to see you any differently." 

"I wanted to rip Williams' head clean off his shoulders," Bucky growled at him, "I want to hunt down whoever is fucking responsible for those scars and kill them slowly."

"You didn't rip Williams' head off," Steve countered, as he took a step closer. He couldn't exactly argue against the other point. His own anger was bubbling under his skin at the thought of Holly's scars.

"I could have. I still could," Bucky said as he sighed deeply. 

Steve blinked, deep down he knew no matter how good Bucky said he was, the man was at war with himself, with his darker side. Hydra had changed Bucky, stripped him of everything that made him a person until all he was, was their weapon. The scales inside of him went in the Soldier's favour for seventy years and now Bucky was trying to wrestle back for control. He needed to find a balance.

Steve just wasn't sure how, and he hated that he was powerless to help, hated that Bucky wouldn't let him any closer than the edges. If he could, he would carry the weight for him.

"You didn't. You remained in control," Steve said softly, moving closer again to Bucky. He made sure his movements were slow and unthreatening as possible. 

"What if I hurt Holly? Like I hurt you?" Bucky's mouth twisted into a bitter smile.

"You won't. You won't let yourself."

Bucky sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat, "I think you give me too much credit Stevie. I'm not as strong as you think I am." He looked uncertain as he spoke.

"You are," he assured, "Having a bad day doesn't mean you are weak Bucky. It's going to take time, but you are a lot stronger than you think you are."

Bucky snorted, unclenching his fist, and gave a sad smile, "You know Holly said something similar."

"She is clearly smart," Steve said, with a slight smile. 

"You should try talking to her."

He nodded, "I will, but right now, I need to know you are okay."

"I'm okay. Pushing back the Soldier is exhausting, but I'm okay. It seemed a little easier today, but I'm not just tired Steve, I'm pissed. Someone has hurt her badly."

"And we will deal with it, but we can't force her to open up to us. We don't have that right."

"I know," Bucky breathed, "I know we don't. I'm...I feel lost Steve. I don't know what to do."

Instead of answering, Steve offered him his hand. 

Bucky hesitated, before taking it and Steve drew him close, into a hug, his arms wrapping around him tightly. For a second Bucky froze before his own arms wrapped around him. 

Steve inhaled deeply, the scent of Bucky filling his nose and reminding him of so many things. It was different now, Bucky was different, but despite all of that they still fitted together. 

"We work it out together," he whispered, and he felt Bucky shiver slightly in his grasp as his breath tickled along his neck. 

Steve pushed the memories away that stirred, the last thing Bucky needed was his desire hitting him full force through the bonds. It was a line they hadn't crossed since his return. Bucky wasn't ready, and Steve wasn't going to push. 

Instead, he closed his eyes and inhaled again. 

"You good?" he murmured. 

"Yeah," Bucky breathed, "I'm good. No more murderous impulses, at least for now."

Steve opened his eyes, his lips twitched slightly as he pulled back reluctantly.

"Take the win."

They were still touching, but not the hug that they had both fallen into. Neither of them seemed willing to move, and Steve's chest tightened. 

It was enough.

It would have to be enough for now. 

Bucky swallowed slowly, as their gazes locked with one another, before he eventually took a step back, his hands dropping to his sides as he did so. 

"I can do that."

"Good," Steve smiled tightly. 

There was so much to say, and yet neither of them was brave enough to walk down that road.

Bucky gave him a nod, before stepping back and making his way out of the penthouse. Steve watched him go for a second longer than he should of before sighing softly.

Both his mind and pulse racing. 

"Jarvis."

"Yes, Captain Rogers?"

"Can you monitor Holly, please? Let me know if she has another panic attack."

"Of course sir."

"Thank you."

Steve nodded to himself, satisfied that Jarvis would notify him should Holly have another panic attack.

It wasn't much, but it was the very least he could do to make sure that she wouldn't be on her own should she have one.

* * *

Holly swallowed some tablets Hill passed her for the pain, wishing it was a pain relief potion and that she was back home able to put some of the Weasley Bruise removal paste she had stored in her cupboards. 

Her jaw ached, and her nose hurt, the dull throbbing sickening pain that you felt in your bones and couldn't entirely ignore. 

Despite the pain, Holly pushed on with her task, grateful that Hill had planted her in a little side room off the main operations floor giving her the illusion of privacy if nothing else. 

Sawyer's gaze had followed her the moment she had stepped onto the floor after she had changed, the questions burning in his eyes. 

Holly had done her level best to ignore it, and everyone else, and for the last four hours she had somewhat succeeded. 

Of course, she should have known that one of them would have come and checked on her sooner or later. 

She had expected Bucky but was surprised to feel the heat of Steve's bond enveloping her, as if she had just received one of Mrs Weasley's hugs. 

He stepped into the doorway, carrying two mugs and a brown paper bag, he leaned against the doorframe. 

A peace offering if she ever saw one. 

Holly could see an array of emotions swirling in his blue eyes, hesitation, doubt, confusion, conflict and, regret. 

Holly couldn't say what any of them meant, or why he was feeling them, but it plucked at her heartstrings like a guitarist playing the guitar. 

It was _not_ what one expected to see when looking at Captain America, but then Holly knew the weight of other people's expectations better than anyone. Steve Rogers was a lot more than the man in the mask, a lot more than the Shield and the symbol. 

She bit her lip. 

Her instincts warred with each other in a fight of self-preservation, to keep him far away, and the desire to help someone that was clearly _lost_ and unsure of how to proceed.

"Hi," she said softly, breaking the silence. 

"Hi," Steve answered, surprise crossing his face that she had spoken. 

"How can I help you, Mr Rogers?"

He blinked, "Mr Rogers?"

Holly smiled, "I don't know you well enough to call you by your first name, and Captain America isn't all of who you are."

His lips twitched ever so slightly, "Steve. Steve is fine."

"How can I help you, Steve?"

"I came to see if you were alright?"

"I'm fine," Holly replied, plastering on a smile and shoving away all the emotions she didn't want to think about. 

She was far from fine, but she was pushing through. 

He hesitated for a moment, blue eyes staring down at her and Holly got a distinct impression that he was picking apart her layers. 

She wrapped the icy blanket around her mind a little tighter, and her smile widened a fraction. 

"I'm _fine_."

The last word had more bite than she intended, and she knew her own gaze had hardened as she looked up at him. 

"Okay," Steve said softly, exasperation and sadness sharing space on his features. 

Regret wriggled inside her stomach. Damn it!

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I've had a long day."

"I get that." Steve stepped inside the small room, making her realise just how big and tall he actually was. He passed her a mug, and Holly took it from him, muttering her thanks. 

She could smell the hot chocolate. 

"Which one gave away the secret?"

"Bucky," he admitted with a slight smile. 

"They say chocolate makes things better."

Holly hummed in agreement before taking a sip. She could taste the cinnamon.

He sat down next to her, unfolding the paper bag offering it to her. 

"Thank you," she said as she picked out a brownie and bit into, the warm gooey goodness melting in her mouth. Just the way she liked brownies. 

"You have a sweet tooth?"

"Guilty as charged and I am not apologising for it. I say take the pleasures you can in this life...so long as they aren't hurting others."

"Wise."

"Don't tell anyone."

"Your secret is safe with me."

Holly snorted as she took another bite and _moaned._

She caught the look Steve threw her. 

"S'rry," she mumbled between a sip of her drink, "You not having one?"

"I know better than to get in between someone and their food."

Holly pushed the bag towards him, "Who?"

"Sam," he admitted as he picked out a brownie.

"That doesn't surprise me."

He gave her a slight smile before taking a bite of his brownie. 

"Do you have a sweet tooth? Or are you more of a grill house kind of guy?"

Steve chuckled, "I like sweet things. Not as much as Bucky, but I like sweet things."

"What's your favourite?"

"Apple pie."

Holly snorted, "I saw that coming from a mile away."

"My mom made the best apple pies. What about you, what's your favourite sweet thing?"

"You mean I have to pick one?" Holly asked, throwing him a look of disgust, "That's outrageous."

He chuckled. "Yeah, you have to pick just one."

"Hmm," Holly started, "Well, there is only one contest really, waffles and ice cream."

"Waffles and ice cream?" Steve repeated, giving her a look of disbelief.

"The combination of hot and cold in my mouth, all gooey goodness, yeah, it's my weakness."

"Gooey goodness?" He raised an eyebrow at her. 

"That's my story, and I'm sticking to it." Holly chuckled, wincing slightly. 

Right, yeah, she should probably avoid that for a while. 

Laughing. 

She wasn't sure why, but it seemed a little easier to talk to Steve when she didn't have the added pressure of thinking she had to say something. Not to mention she was back in her regular work clothes and not her workout gear and wasn't feeling quite as vulnerable as she was hours ago. 

Of course, the hard part was already over with, they had actually spoken to each other earlier, now it was just following the same steps that every other average person did. 

Except most people weren't soulmarked to Captain America or Bucky Barnes. 

Wariness crept along her spine; she needed to show caution just as she did with Bucky. 

The easy conversation about the unimportant things such as her sweet tooth surprised her, but that didn't mean she could lose her head and throw caution to the wind. She couldn't let either of them get to close to her. 

"You know you can head off now if you need to," Steve said suddenly. 

Holly gave a tight smile, she wasn't ready to go back to her apartment and let her thoughts run wild. 

"I find keeping busy helps. If I stay focused then..."

"Less time for other thoughts to take over."

"Yeah," she admitted, meeting his gaze with her own.

"You know if you are in trouble, we can help."

Holly smiled as she deflected, "According to my old professors, I was always in trouble."

"That sounds like Bucky, and well, me. Bucky was always pulling me out of trouble."

"My friends tried, but they usually ended up neck-deep in the same trouble."

"We can help Holly if you need it."

The sincerity that crossed his face made Holly pause for a moment. It would be easy, so easy, to just come out and say that she was hunting for missing children that Hydra had taken. 

That Hydra was experimenting on; killing and Merlin knew what else to the actual survivors. 

But with the open confession, everything else would come tumbling out. How she knew, what Hydra had done to her, something she wasn't sure she fully understood now. 

Then why those children were taken would be questioned, which would open the door to the magical world, and MACUSA didn't forgive when it came to muggle interactions. Their policy far harsher than back home. 

Holly couldn't risk it. 

Couldn't risk what the Wizarding World would possibly do to the Avengers. They didn't deserve that, Bucky and Steve didn't deserve that. 

"I appreciate the offer," Holly said slowly, giving a sad smile, "But I'm okay, I'm used to taking care of myself."

Steve looked at her for a moment, his blue eyes intense as they burned into her soul. He nodded once as he rose to his feet. 

"The offer is there. If you need help, we can help you. You don't have to be alone."

Holly blinked in surprise, uncertain in what to say. Steve didn't give her the chance to respond, he gave her a slight twitch of his lips before leaving the room. 

Holly swallowed the lump in her throat. 

Alone was safer for everybody. Alone meant that Hydra wouldn't be able to go after the people she loved. 

She would be keeping them safe. 

Except a deep sense of longing filled her as the knots tightened in her stomach and it wouldn't leave her alone. It gnawed at her soul, clawed at her heart and dug deeper, burrowing inside of her, so she couldn't push it away. 

All she could do was steel her spine, let ice feel her veins and do her damn hardest not to feel it. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will more than likely be delayed again. I will be going on holiday at the end of this week and the time I have to write will be limited. Hopefully I will be able to get back on track once I am back.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, kudos and bookmarked. 
> 
> I really appreciate the support and I am taken away by how many are enjoying the story so far and I can only apologise for the delay in uploading. 
> 
> While I had a lovely holiday, upon returning to work I found out the news that funding is ending earlier than it should. It has resulted and will continue to for the next few months mean work will be manic in trying to bring the project to an end, on top of needing to find a new job. So time for writing may be put on the back burner for a little while, though I still hope to upload when I can. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the next chapter, as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
> 
> XXX
> 
> Notes about this upcoming chapter and future chapters: 
> 
> Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended to be offensive in anyway.
> 
> I know absolutely nothing about guns, weapons in general, and my knowledge is purely from the internet, and TV shows and books I may read. I apologise if any of the information that is used is wrong. 
> 
> Any opinions that may come across in the chapters are not my own either. 
> 
> Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 7:-**

"You're thinking too hard."

Natasha barely glanced up from her Pad towards the door where Clint was casually leaning against the doorframe, arms folded against his chest as he watched her.

"I'm planning," she answered as she scrolled upwards on the page. 

He held up his palms in surrender, "Don't come crying to me when you get wrinkles."

Natasha threw her pen at him, which he easily dodged as he stepped further into the room. 

"You're hilarious," she said dryly with a roll of her eyes. 

"What's the problem?" Clint asked as he took the seat next to her.

"Not a problem, an unexpected detail," she replied as she turned her head slightly towards her oldest friend.

He had grown still as he looked at her; his eyes narrowed with piqued interest as he surveyed her, a barely-there frown crossing his face. She could see the tic though in his jaw on the left side that only ever appeared when worry gnawed at him.

She could read him as easily as he could read her, and they had both learnt long ago it was useless attempting to hide things from the other. Though Natasha would say she was still better at it than him. There was always a part she kept to herself, buried deep and secure and safe. 

"A detail that could cause a problem?"

"Potentially. At site one; an office is rented out to a unit from the Intelligence Division."

"New York Police Department?" Clint asked, his frown deepening ever so slightly. 

"I wouldn't be concerned if it was something else. It would just be a matter of outmanoeuvring them. But we need the city on our side, and having a mission in their backyard, could potentially blow up in our faces."

Natasha paused before continuing. 

"The Intelligence Division, by all accounts works in secrecy without the city council being informed of operations. If we make contact with the particular unit based there and bring them in on intelligence only side of things, then we don't ruffle feathers, we are seen to be playing ball, and we still take all the risks."

"Recon?" Clint stated. 

Natasha offered him a small smirk, "That is what I am planning. And it will have to be today, before we start with our recon tonight of the site."

"When do we leave?"

"Not you."

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise. 

"Potter," Natasha continued, not leaving room for argument. 

Understanding flashed through his eyes almost instantly.

"It's a good as place as any. Does the Cap know?"

"Not yet," Natasha replied, with a shake of her head. "What do you make of her?"

Clint gave her a slight frown, and she knew the reason why. She had always prided herself on being able to read people, and had never let others opinions cloud her judgement. Now was no different, she did want to get a read on the woman, but she also wanted to see what Clint thought.

Clint who read people in a different way than she did, who had his own unique history to fall back on to see things in a different light, just as she had her own. 

"She's like you."

Natasha snapped her gaze to Clint, her eyes narrowing like daggers. She hadn't expected that comment. 

Clint stood a little straighter under her stare, lesser men had cowered under it, but Clint had always remained firm and steadfast. "The first time I saw you, green eyes that should be full of light, but are actually full of darkness. She hides it better, but it's there."

She cocked an eyebrow, a silent prompt for him to continue. 

Clint sighed, "Besides training, you have had the exact same interactions I have with her, Nat, I know you see it too. Hell I'm pretty sure Barnes sees it as well, probably better than us."

He ran a hand through his hair, "She's trained. She hides that fact, which means she is good. Really good, it takes a lot of control and ability to appear less than you actually are. She could have taken Williams down in seconds, I saw it, watched her assess him, and she still held back. It was only when he pushed too far she bared her teeth and took him out."

Something she regularly did. Appearing less than she was, less of a danger, less of a threat. It was something the Red Room had taught her, how to hide the predator inside and appear delicate and unthreatening. 

Natasha didn't think Potter had had the same kind of training she had, but if she knew how to hide in plain sight, then it raised more questions. Was it deliberate? Was she deliberately trying to hide from them?

Her instincts put Potter into the dangerous category, but it didn't quite put her in the threat to them. 

To her team. 

"She's been hurt Nat, and badly. She's hiding from something, and I think maybe her coming to work here is a cry for help. Even if she doesn't realise it."

Natasha could admit she had thought that possible reasoning, she had come to the conclusion Potter was hiding, and she was determined to discover that particular danger before it bit them all in the ass. 

She reached out a hand towards Clint and smiled softly, a smile she reserved for a few people. 

"So we help her then."

* * *

Holly scanned the War room over the rim of her cup as she took a sip of her tea. 

She schooled her features to give nothing away and allowed her shoulders to relax despite the weighted scrutiny of the others in the room, pressing along her skin. 

Holly would be lying if she said it didn't set her teeth on edge. 

That it didn't have her instincts squirming beneath her skin and the itching urge to reach for her wand, to have her magic crackling at her fingertips. 

The darkness purred in her mind as it watched with too-large eyes, its claws kneading her mind in warning to be on guard. 

As if she needed the reminder. 

Holly didn't. 

She was sitting in a room full of people that had formerly worked for SHIELD, a mixed batch of former agents that ranged from engineers to former Strike Members. 

She recognised the new recruits, others were just faces she had seen on the main floor, but she had yet to learn their names.

The last couple of days had made her forget it wasn't just the Avengers she was working with. 

But being in a room full of people that Hill had personally hired was the wakeup call she needed. 

Holly took another sip of her drink, mentally cataloguing those around her without making it visible that was what she was doing.

It wasn't personal. 

She knew that they eyed each other up with equal amount of suspicion, the same amount of wariness. 

Except for the Tank and Jax, Holly noted _they_ at least presented a united front with each other against the rest of the room. 

But then _they_ had both been former members of the Strike Team and some of the few that hadn't been neck deep with Hydra.

The fact they survived against their fellow teammates and brothers in arms turning on them said a lot about them. 

She took another sip of her drink, well aware of eyes pinned to her every move. 

Holly turned her head ever so slightly; dark brown eyes with a dash of molten ore flecking them caught her gaze and locked.

_Tank _dark-haired and dark-skinned. His physical build matched what one expected from his former career, yet despite the bulging muscles and the name, there appeared to be an air of soothing calmness around the man. 

Holly couldn't say why exactly she got that impression, as she had no doubt he could turn lethal the moment he needed to, but the way he was sitting in the chair, calm and still as if he would listen to all your problems if you let him. 

"Can hardly see any bruising," he noted.

Holly was aware the others were listening, even if they were trying to give the impression they weren't. Except for Jax, he was definitely paying attention; his blue eyes glistened with amusement.

"I don't bruise easily." Holly shrugged; and she didn't, not now anyway, but she may have also used a small amount of the Weasley Bruise removal paste to ease what had started to show, leaving a barely-there shadow of a bruise. 

Cheating? Perhaps, but Holly needed to be on top of her A-game. 

"Aren't you the lucky one," Sawyer muttered, "My bruises have bruises."

Holly raised an eyebrow as she took another sip of her drink.

"Sawyer is more lover than a fighter."

"Nothing wrong with that," Holly muttered. 

"Barton paired Williams up with me after you were taken to medical, not that the guy could do much. You got him good and proper," Jax smirked. 

"Not the first time I've had to fight," Holly answered. 

Tank looked at her, his head tilted to the side slightly. "I could see that. Granted I thought Barnes was going to kill him, I'm pretty sure Barton thought that to," Tank noted. 

Holly raised an eyebrow at them but stayed silent. They were fishing for information, though she wasn't entirely sure why but from the all too silent room, Holly could tell that everyone was waiting in anticipation for her to say something. 

Holly was no stranger to people picking for information, and to those that readily shared it. Aurors could be the biggest gossips when they wanted to be. Maybe it was something about the particular area of work. Everybody wanted to know everyone else's business. 

"Was it like this back in SHIELD?" she asked, "All whispers and rumours."

"We had weekly wagers. It kept us entertained," Jax teased. 

Holly snorted, yeah sounded like the Aurors office.

Before Holly could even think about responding the door opened, and Steve, Hill and Romanoff walked in. 

Holly strengthened her shields the moment she laid eyes on Steve, already an angry prickly heat pressed along the bond and her shields. 

She was going to hazard a guess that Steve Rogers was irritated about something, and she didn't get the impression it was her. 

His eyes met hers briefly, an acknowledgement, a subtle one, but still there and the prickly feeling eased. 

"Good you are all here, we can get started," Hill said. She pulled a chair out and sat down before continuing. 

"We have received Intel that a shipment of Chitauri weapons is due to arrive a week Friday. The next coming days we and in turn _you_ are solely focused on gathering as much information as we can about the locations, potential buyers and any further information that will be vital to the mission."

Well fuck!

"How many weapons are we expecting? Tank asked, a concerned look crossing his face. 

"Unknown at this time, but enough to cause serious damage to the city if they hit the streets," Romanoff answered. 

Holly's mind raced.

She hadn't been able to help New York when the invasion happened, but she had seen the footage when she had finally broken free from Hydra, had seen the aftermath. Even now a few years later, the City still carried some of the scars. 

Both in the muggle world and the magical one. 

The body count of lives lost doubled when you included Witches and Wizards, and tripled when you added the magical creatures that called New York their home.

In the years she had spent travelling, in moving throughout the dark belly of the underworld in both worlds she had seen firsthand some of the damage those weapons could do in the wrong hands. 

But that had still been the odd one or two, not an entire shipment. 

"How are the weapons even workable, I was under the impression they all shut down once the portal was closed?" she asked, because even if she knew otherwise that little bit of information had always evaded her. 

How those she had seen still operated. 

Steve, Hill and Romanoff shared a look between them before turning their attention back to the room.

"A way to reverse-engineer them was found and duplicated," Romanoff answered. 

"Shield wasn't that close to reverse-engineering them, the closest I remember anyone getting was that duo that started robbing banks," Philips pointed out.

"Sitwell was sent apprehend them if I remember correctly, oh, well I guess that makes sense," Sawyer added. 

"You got to be fucking kidding me!" Jax hissed through clenched teeth, "Hydra."

Hydra.

Hydra.

The word roared through Holly's mind. Hydra, day four, and already there was another mention of Hydra.

"There are active Hydra cells in New York City," Steve said tightly. His muscles were rigid from the way he was holding himself with coiled pent up frustration and a dash of uncontrollable rage that was threatening to break free. 

His eyes had hardened and narrowed, and Holly could see the bubbling anger. 

Son of a bitch!

Holly had not expected that, had really not expected that. Her mind whirled, and her pulse raced, she was in the same city as them. She just needed to locate them, she just needed - _patience. _

She needed to be patient; she couldn't afford to run in without a plan, without all the knowledge. 

"They the sellers or the buyers?" Tank asked.

"Sellers, though we believe they won't be selling them all," Steve replied. 

"Of course they won't," Tank agreed, "Just enough to cause some damage that will keep everyone's attention fixed on anyone but them."

Holly could feel the tension in the room. Each of them had lost a lot to Hydra, friends, brothers-in-arms, work colleagues. People they knew had turned on them with weapons and done so without hesitation, and those that dared to fight back lost their lives. 

_They_ had lost a lot. 

This was personal for them. 

And as far as _they_ knew she didn't have a connection to Hydra, she was the outsider.

Yet it was. 

Personal for her, and not just for the missing children, or her entire team being killed...her pulse jumped, as memories stirred.

**Don't think about it.**

Holly pushed the memories down, well aware that Steve was looking at her. His eyes narrowed and brow creased with puzzlement.

Damn it, despite shielding she may have projected that particular thought a little too forcefully. 

She needed to get to grips of what these bonds were exactly capable of, to avoid doing something that would leave her open, or hinder _them_. 

She took another sip of her drink, grimacing at the now lukewarm tea, but grateful for giving her hands something to occupy with. Holly was more than used to the weight of people's gazes on her, and while she still didn't like it, she had come to accept it and not flinch from it. But there was something about the way Steve was looking at her, that made her want to shift in her seat.

"That is our conclusion as well," Steve replied grimly, "They will have an endgame in mind. We need to find out what that endgame is. But our first priority is keeping those weapons off the streets."

"So what's the plan, Captain?" Tank asked. 

Holly looked between the Tank and Jax, each of them looking determined and calculating. 

They were awaiting their orders. 

Looking around at the rest of the table, showed Philips and Sawyer were also equally awaiting their orders. SHIELD may have fallen, they may distrust each other, but when it came down to it, they were agents, and _that_ meant something to them. 

Holly could understand that, respect it. 

Holly expected Hill to take over, relay their jobs, their tasks in preparing for this shipment. 

Instead, it was Steve that took point. Steve that laid out the plan directed them to each of their roles.

Philips was going to be putting her skills to the test and working alongside Stark and Bruce in trying to find a counter to the weapons. Something that would shut them down, block their energy or something along those lines. Philips seemed to understand enough to nod and Holly was pretty sure that was the main thing.

Sawyer was going to be working with Hill and Jarvis searching through every scrap of information they could find through the data they had on Hydra, on the web on any database they could get a hold of. Holly was pretty sure Jarvis would be doing most of the heavy lifting, being able to search through multiple things at once far faster than a human mind could, while Hill and Sawyer tried to find a pattern or trail they could follow. 

The rest of them were going to be the feet on the ground. The foot soldiers, offering support with chasing up leads, stake-outs and when it came to it, helping on the night. 

Holly had no doubt the Avengers would be able to handle the situation on the night, but as Steve revealed they had two possible shipment locations.

They needed as many hands on deck as they could to cover both locations.

Holly gripped her mug tighter, her knuckles turning white before she forced her hands to loosen slightly. 

She bit at the inside of her lip, ensuring her face was schooled to give nothing away, all the while she could feel her knees bouncing under the table and an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach growing. 

Holly had prepared for the possibility that she would end up working out in the field with the Avengers at some point, but in a more simplistic role as a driver, or smoothing ruffled feathers of any law enforcement, they may end up crossing paths with. 

Stakeouts - no problem, she could handle that. 

Actually being on a mission with them that involved conflict with enemy forces - Holly wasn't sure she could handle that without giving away her magic. 

The idea of not using everything she had when she would be fighting for her life, that didn't sit well with her at all. 

Holding back during training, letting people underestimate her was one thing but to deliberately weaken herself in such a way, Holly wasn't sure she would be able to do that. 

No, she knew she couldn't do that. 

Not with Hydra as the enemy, yet she didn't know enough about why they were in the city, something Holly couldn't help but notice for Steve, Hill and Romanoff wasn't that much of a surprise.

_They_ knew. 

They knew before this Intel that Hydra was in the city. 

Holly's mind whirled as she listened to the layout of the plan for the next week or so. 

Training. 

Groundwork. 

Stake-outs. 

They would practically be living at the Tower for the next week. Those who were involved with the Stake Outs would be working in shifts, with the Avengers. 

"Each of you will have time to go home and grab what you need at some point today for the next week. You are basically living here and on-call twenty-four-seven," Hill added.

"Potter you are with me for the first shift. Tank you will be with Natasha and Jax with Clint. But first the three of you will be spending the morning training with Bucky and Clint," Steve continued.

Holly blinked in surprise, she hadn't been expecting that. 

"When is the first shift?" Holly asked. 

"Won't be until fifteen hundred hours."

Fifteen hundred hours, military-speak for three o'clock. Doable. 

"We won't be getting off until midnight," he continued. 

Nine hours. 

Nine hours in the car alone with Steve. 

Holly managed to keep her features schooled, giving no outward sign that her insides were knotting tightly, or at least she hoped she was. 

Nine hours. 

It wouldn't be that bad.

Would it?

Steve, who up until yesterday had barely said anything to her. 

Right, yeah who was she kidding it was going to be a challenge. 

A big fucking challenge.

Holly rose when the others did and made to follow Tank and Jax. 

"Potter."

Holly turned in surprise at the sound of Romanoff calling her. 

"You are with me this morning; you will be back in time to join Tank and Jax for training."

"Where are we going?" Holly asked, casting a glance towards Steve who had snapped his attention to them the moment Romanoff had uttered the words. 

Something he hadn't been aware of then. 

She looked back at Romanoff, who was watching her closely. 

"Field trip, we won't be long."

Holly nodded once, as she followed behind the woman. Holly noted the other woman's appearance. Dark skinny jeans that looked painted on. Black long sleeve shirt, under a red leather jacket that she was slowly putting on as she walked. Adding the final touch with a black woollen hat that covered most of her red hair. 

Street clothes. 

Romanoff even softened her stride into one of casual walking, curbing the dangerous wildcat edge the woman had so far emanated whenever Holly had seen her. 

In a blink of an eye, Romanoff had slid into another skin with practised ease. Holly knew the woman's reputation, she knew just how dangerous she was and had no doubt she was armed.

They stopped long enough to allow Holly to grab her own coat, before making their way down to the underground parking lot where Romanoff led her to a black SUV. 

Holly curbed her questions, even though her curiosity prowled along the edges of her subconscious. If she was entering the field with Romanoff, then she had to be on guard, had to be prepared for anything. 

Not that the woman had given her much time to prepare. But thinking on her feet was something she was good at. Not to mention she was armed, her wand hidden in her holster, she wasn't wholly underprepared. 

Romanoff turned to glance at her as she slipped into the passenger side next to her, a delicate brow arching and Holly felt as though her layers were being peeled back and her insides her being picked apart. 

She was never one to back down from a challenge, never one to back off in the face of danger. 

Holly met Romanoff's gaze with her own and really looked. Romanoff was dangerous, Holly could see that in every move she made, but she wasn't the only one. 

Amusement flickered briefly in the woman's eyes, and a small smile crossed Romanoff's lips before she turned the key in the ignition. 

As if she was satisfied with whatever Holly had let slip. 

She was getting the impression that the other woman was testing her. 

Holly turned her focus to looking out of the window. 

Romanoff wasn't the only one that could play that game. 

* * *

Natasha surveyed her surroundings as she slipped out of the car, carefully taking note of the buildings around her, of the people, of anything that could potentially be hiding a threat.

She clocked the few security cameras that a few businesses had opted to have, though she couldn't help but wonder how many worked and how many were there just for show. 

She glanced out the corner of her eye as the passenger door shut softly. Potter glanced around with the same level of scrutiny that she used, and Natasha couldn't help but notice the alertness in the other woman's body as she moved.

"Okay, I give up, what exactly are we doing?"

An eyebrow rose, and Natasha found her lips twitching into the barest of smirks. 

Potter had remained silent in the hour it had taken them to arrive at their destination, the traffic firmly against them. Natasha could say she was impressed; most people weren't comfortable with long silences. 

"Recon."

Potter tilted her head, her lips twitching into a slight smile.

"At Dunkin' Donuts?"

Natasha could hear the amusement in her tone.

"The possibilities are endless," Natasha said. 

"Uh-huh," Potter murmured in agreement. 

Natasha watched as Potter swept her gaze across the area for a second time as she walked around the car, her features void of anything that would give a hint of what was going through her mind. 

She was rarely wrong when it came to her instincts. That's what made her a great Agent, made her a great Avenger, and an even better Black Widow than the program had intended. 

She excelled at reading people. 

Except when she didn't, because _she_ should have known Hydra was within SHIELD from the moment, she had stepped inside those walls. 

It's that failure that _epic screw up_ that had her request Potter's help with this particular job. 

She needed to get a read on the other woman. 

That and Clint's words running through her head had her curiously asking, as the woman came level with her.

"What do you see?"

"We are exposed. A good sniper would be able to pick us off from a distance, and we wouldn't know," Potter answered, indicating towards the few buildings that towered over the others. "Dunkin' Donuts, gas station. Family health centre. Lots of traffic both foot and vehicle, which could lead to a high number of civilian casualties."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. She hadn't expected that answer. "Your first thought is a sniper?"

"You have a lot of enemies," Potter answered, meeting her gaze. Natasha couldn't help but see the calculating hardness in them that she had seen in her own eyes whenever she dared to look in the mirror for too long.

Potter hadn't wasted her words, she had gotten down to the point, and Natasha could appreciate it. She was direct with her words. If she could get her point across with a few words and a small inflexion, then she would do just that. 

"And if you were transporting goods, which direction would you go in?"

"I would do trial runs first, not knowing the area; I would need to find the quickest way out of a situation, ways to lose any possible tails," Potter paused, her eyes glanced in the four different directions of the corner they stood on. Before she snapped her attention back to Natasha "Four vans and three lorries, have already driven past in the short time we have been here. Those vehicles don't stand out here; they are part of the scenery."

"There is a ferry route that has a stop around the block. Plus the warehouse around the corner which is adjacent to a rail yard. It's not unusual," Natasha supplied, with a shrug of her shoulders. "What else?"

Potter glanced towards Dunkin' Donuts and Natasha suppressed the smirk that wanted to escape. Waiting to see what the other woman would say.

"Two men that have just entered Dunkin' Donuts, both of them are carrying guns, and neither of them has stopped looking at us since they came round the corner."

Natasha smiled slightly; she had spotted the two of them the moment she had slid out of the car. But then _they_ were the whole reason she was here. 

"Who do you think they are?"

"Police. Plain-clothes so possibly undercover or Detectives. They are paying too much attention to us to be civilians."

There was that word again, civilians. Potter was using it a lot, and by all accounts she was a civilian. It made Natasha wonder what exactly Potter classed herself as. 

"What makes you say they are police? They could be Hydra?"

"They haven't started firing at us yet. Hydra wouldn't care about civilian casualties. Not if it meant taking a shot at you."

"You have a good eye. You see more than a civilian would usually pick up on."

"I'm observant."

"Or you have training."

Natasha watched Potter closely.

For appearance sakes, at first glance, Holly Potter was as ordinary and as normal as she could possibly be. Pretty, but not confident enough to see it, to use it, to stand out and bring _that_ kind of attention to herself...preferring to blend in and appear harmless, appear smaller than what she was. 

Except her gut was telling her that something didn't add up. 

That Potter was trying to damn hard to fit into a neat little box of normal when the reality was that she was far from ordinary.

"Come on, I fancy some doughnuts," Natasha said, turning in order to walk towards the building. 

She ensured her pace was steady, yet relaxed, putting on the pretence she was here for nothing more than the delicious doughnuts that Dunkin' Donuts served. Potter fell into step with her, and Natasha noticed that she was even more relaxed than Natasha was pretending to be.

Natasha had to learn that skill in the Red Room how to look harmless. Potter seemed to radiate the energy naturally. Calm soothing energy that you couldn't help but let wash over you and it fill you with a sense of protection, comfort and security. You got the feeling that you were safe with her, that you could tell her all your worries and that she would listen.

Natasha wasn't willing to let herself fall into the trap. Because the moment you let your guard down, the moment the knives and guns came out, and blood was spilt. She knew that better than anything. 

Potter would have made an excellent Black Widow. 

Natasha had seen the video footage at the gym, had seen just how quickly Potter had shifted into a predator the moment somebody tried to hurt her. 

Natasha had no doubt that predator was lying in wait even now. Coiled to strike when the need arose, the moment someone came to close to her. 

Yet she had also seen the footage in the medical wing. Somebody had hurt Potter badly, and while the woman had survived, the scars ran deep. 

Clint was right in his assessment that Potter needed help.

The question was whether Potter needed help to heal, or needed help from the threat she was clearly running from.

Natasha stepped into the comforting warmth that Dunkin' Donuts had to offer, letting the delicious smell of doughnuts wash over her. 

It was enough to make her mouth water, and she allowed herself the few seconds it took to sweep her eyes across the establishment to enjoy it. 

She spotted the detectives in their corner who were not so subtlety watching her and Potter. 

Cutting to the point, she gave a slight nod in their direction before turning her attention to the beaming woman behind the counter. 

They didn't have the time to be subtle. 

Not with the time frame they had to work with.

Her mind raced as they placed their orders and waited. She had ordered an extra bag of doughnuts for the detectives, as a goodwill gesture, and something she knew would pipe their interest enough to follow them out. 

Natasha dared not have the conversation she was hoping to have with them where they could be overheard. 

She cast another glance around the building. 

It was quiet. 

Three other customers besides them and the detectives. 

Along with two members of staff. 

Her shoulder blades itched from the weight of eyes watching her. 

The seconds ticked by.

"Isn't it a cliché?" Potter said softly as she accepted two bags on doughnuts and her own hot drink. 

"Everybody likes a sweet treat, and if it works, then it works," she answered as she picked her own paper bag and drink. 

"Oh I can't argue that but why doughnuts. Why not something else?"

Natasha gave Potter a curious look; it wasn't something she had ever thought about. 

"Convenient and easy. Sugary pick me up after a long shift."

Potter hummed before sipping her drink as they stepped out of the buildings. 

"Simple things that keep you going."

"What is your pick me up?" Natasha asked an eyebrow rose as she watched the other woman. 

"Chocolate Frogs and Glacial Snow Flakes," Potter answered absently, before freezing and quickly continuing, "They were novelty chocolate that was a big hit so ended up being sold year out."

Potter had slipped. 

Innocently enough, but a slip never the less. 

Natasha just couldn't determine why a hint of panic had laced her words at chocolate. But then she had never heard of Chocolate Frogs and Glacial Snow Flakes. 

Interesting. 

Not that she had time to pick apart that particular slip up, the doorbells chimed behind them, and Natasha glanced over her shoulder to see the two detectives exiting Dunkin' Donuts.

She nodded her head once in a show of invitation, before turning the corner with Potter. 

"They are following," Potter muttered, before she sipped her drink. 

Natasha nodded her head in acknowledgement, as they walked down the road.

* * *

Madoc clocked the two women as they stepped through the door. His eyes narrowing as he spotted the tell-tale signs of a weapon one of them was carrying. 

The other wasn't carrying a weapon from what he could see, but something tugged in his gut that told him to be wary of them both.

From the stiffening of his partner's shoulders, he wasn't the only one. 

Madoc recognised the woman with red-hair as soon as she turned slightly ensuring they had a proper angle of her face as she approached the counter with her companion. 

It was hard not to when she was considered one of the Heroes of New York, and while he was one of those that thought the Avengers as that, heroes, he wasn't foolish enough to ignore the knowledge he had about the reputation of the Black Widow. 

His eyes darted to the Black Widow's companion. Her back was facing them, and all he could see was she was dark-haired, yet he prided himself on having a good eye and a good nose for trouble. 

His gut was telling him he needed to pay attention to the dark-haired female, more so than the Black Widow.

Eleven years since he had completed his training, three since he became a Detective, he wasn't one to ignore his gut.

Especially in the No-Maj world. 

Many of his fellow Wizards and Witches considered working in the No-Maj world as beneath them.

He couldn't say it was the career or even the position he had dreamed about as a boy. Though considering his family name, he had long since come to the conclusion that being a Graves and having a sparkling career path within the Auror Department was a fools dream.

Yet somebody had to monitor the criminal underbelly of their world didn't cross over too much with that of the No-Maj.

And his Captain had deemed it was to be him. 

He had made his peace with his position.

Even if it meant twice the reports.

And slowly over time working undercover in the Intelligence Division was something he had come to enjoy.

"Is there anything going down in the area that would warrant the attention of the Avengers?" Detective Sergeant Lowe muttered.

Madoc darted his gaze towards his commander and partner, before shooting back towards the two women. 

"Not that I am aware of," he muttered as he took a sip of his coffee 

The tug was back. Pulling at his stomach. 

There was something, something about the Black Widow's companion that he couldn't quite put his finger on. 

Both women completed their order, two large take out bags and a hot drink for each of them in hand.

"I think Graves we have an invitation to follow them."

"Yeah," he nodded curtly as he rose to his feet. 

He picked up his own cup of coffee and left the half-eaten doughnut, waiting the few seconds needed to look like a coincidence that he left at the same time as them, before exiting the building. 

The two of them passed their SUV; the Black Widow glanced over her shoulder at them and nodded her head once before turning the corner. 

"That was definitely an invitation."

As they reached the corner, Lowe crossed the road to the opposite side of the street and followed. 

They may have received an invitation, but neither of them was foolish enough to blindly follow without taking the proper precautions. 

What could possibly earn the Avengers attention, down in their little corner of Brooklyn?

His mind whirled as he followed them; nothing he had learnt in the last week alone would even register on their radar from either side of the line he so delicately walked.

A new drug had hit the streets. 

The moniker the streets had taken to calling it Third Eye was raising more than a few eyebrows in the labs. The uncertainty of what was in it and finding nothing concrete to indicate where to look in the direction of who was responsible for manufacturing leaving them at a loose end. 

While they usually left the drugs to the Narcotics Unit. The side effects of the drugs leading to more aggressive nature in the user resulting in violent crimes steadily rising, topped with whispers that the drug was funding a significant threat to the City had resulted in their unit focusing on the problem as well.

The women led him and Lowe round the corner, back towards the large warehouse complex where their offices, among many others, were located.

Madoc couldn't help but feel that the Black Widow wanted their attention, and this was how she was going about it getting it. 

That was a cause for concern. 

Madoc paused, tilted his head ever so slightly as the two of them crossed the street, under the footbridge towards some benches and sat down in clear view. 

Lowe rejoined him, both of them watching the two women closely. 

"I believe we should have a chat," Lowe said firmly as he stepped forward. 

Madoc fell into step behind his commander, his eyes sweeping the area for any immediate threat, before narrowing onto the women.

His hand itched to reach for his wand, but he pushed down the urge to have it in his hand. 

He knew better than that. 

Especially walking the thin line, he was currently walking on right now. 

They drew level, and as if that was what they expected, both women turned to face them as they approached. 

Madoc felt his eyes widen, and his blood run cold, he glanced at the dark-haired woman. 

Because she was somebody, he recognised.

His eyes fixed on the lightning bolt scar for a fraction longer than he should have before he locked gazes with her. 

Green eyes hardened in the seconds he had given himself away in _recognising_ that scar. 

He stared at the woman. 

She stared back. 

Madoc swallowed the lump in his throat as he processed the knowledge of who she was. 

He had been right in his assessment in being wary of her.

She was even more dangerous than the Black Widow. 

And by all accounts, she was supposed to be dead. 

But Holly Potter wasn't dead. She was living, breathing, and sitting right in front of him. 

"Detective Graves will keep your companion company, as I do believe Ms Romanoff, we need to talk."

Madoc snapped his gaze between his commander and the Black Widow, who was watching him with amusement as she stood.

He blinked in surprise.

He hadn't been paying close enough attention and missed what his commander had suggested. 

The two women shared a look, though he could see that Potter still managed to keep him in her line of sight. 

Romanoff nodded once before stepping away from the table, his commander following behind. 

Madoc sat down, the weight of Potter's gaze pressing down on him. 

The silence stretched between them. 

Madoc wasn't sure if he should say something, or whether he should hold his tongue.

In the end, he didn't have to. 

Potter spoke first. 

"You know who I am."

It wasn't a question, more a statement. But then when Potter had a scar as famous as hers was, a scar Madoc paid attention to a fraction longer than a No-Maj would have then, it didn't need to be a question. 

"You're supposed to be dead."

Potter smiled, sadly. 

"You have no idea."

"How?"

"It's complicated," Potter answered before taking a sip of her drink. 

Complicated. Madoc had no doubt it was complicated, especially as she was currently with the Black Widow.

"The question now though Graves, what are you going to do with that information?"

Madoc frowned as he studied her. 

"Why are you here?"

Potter sighed, "That really is complicated. Right now, Romanoff is asking your partner for help, explaining the situation as to why we are here. As to me, it's complicated."

"That's not an answer."

"No, I don't suppose it is."

She was giving nothing away, her eyes cold and calculating observed him patiently. Her expression was unreadable. 

He could hear the danger laced in her words as she asked that question and he had no doubt that should he answer wrongly then she would take action. 

Questions whirled in his mind. 

He had heard the story of her demise, but he wasn't high enough in the chain to have read any official reports if there were any. 

But Aurors talked.

The Wizarding World had mourned Potter. 

The Underworld had cheered and breathed a sigh of relief. 

He should report it to his Captain; report that Holly Potter was still alive. She was currently unregistered in their country. Yet something niggled and warned him to show caution that something _else_ had to be happening. 

Potter was a war hero. 

The Girl Who Lived. 

The Woman who Conquered. 

The Champion of the Wizarding World. 

An Auror whose reputation crossed the Wizarding World with awe, and fear to those who dared bring her wrath onto them. 

If she was hiding from the Wizarding World, then there was a reason for it. 

A reason why she was currently with the Black Widow. 

With the Avengers. 

He had to trust his gut and right now, his gut was telling him to take a blind leap of faith.

"I want answers if I'm not going to report it."

Potter's eyes widened ever so slightly. 

Madoc could tell she hadn't expected that answer, and for the first time since he sat down he could see a flicker of hesitation breaking through her confidence. 

He held her gaze, standing his ground. 

"I can't give you all the answers you are looking for, not here, not now," she said after a while. 

"Why let everyone believe you're dead?" he asked, wanting to get at least one honest answer. 

Potter gave him a sad smile, "Because the dead aren't seen as a threat." 

He blinked in surprise at her answer and the look of tiredness that crossed her face. 

There was a story there; he had no doubt of that. 

He opened his mouth to say something else but turned at the sounds of footsteps. A grim look twisted Lowe's face, and his eyes burned hotly.

He glanced back at Potter, but whatever had passed between them seconds ago was gone, and a cold mask was firmly in place. 

"We have a problem," Lowe said firmly as he reached the table. 

Madoc's eyes darted between his partner, the Black Widow, and Potter.

There was trouble brewing, Madoc had no doubt about that, and for the first time in his career it looked like both of his worlds were about to come crashing together, and he best be ready for it when that happens.

* * *

"You're like a mother hen, has anybody ever told you that."

Bucky gritted his teeth as he eyed Sam from his corner of the elevator. 

"You totally are," Sam continued, pointedly ignoring his look. "I thought Steve was bad, but you beat him hands down."

"Shut up!"

"Hey man," Sam chimed, holding his hands up in defence, a grin spread across his face, "It's adorable."

"Steve was always getting himself into trouble," he muttered with a shake of his head. 

"She's with Nat."

"I know."

"It was just recon."

"I know," he bit out slowly. 

"I get it man, I do. But you are worrying about nothing, how much trouble could they possibly get into?"

Bucky threw him a look of disgust. 

"I'm not worried."

"Right," Sam drawled, dragging the word out slowly as if to emphasise the point he didn't quite believe him. 

Bucky wasn't worried. Not in the way Sam was thinking about. Natasha was more than capable of handling herself and any trouble that came their way and he had a sneaky suspicion that Holly would be able to handle herself equally as well. 

It was the fact that Natasha had sprung the idea of taking Holly out in the field this morning that had him twitching.

Even Steve had been surprised when she had called up Holly to go out with her.

He knew exactly what she was up to.

Just as he knew what her cross examination techniques could entail. 

He wasn't worried. 

Concerned. 

That was a more accurate word. 

Concerned that Natasha would poke a little too far. 

The elevator doors pinged open; unfurling himself he strode out of the doors, Sam on his heels.

His eyes scanned the corridor, resting on Holly as soon as he spotted her. 

A quick glance told him that she was physically fine and that neither of them had fell afoul of trouble. Looking closer showed that she was relaxed, a slight smile on her face and amusement dancing in her eyes as she chatted with Natasha. 

He would take that as a good sign that Natasha hadn't poked to hard.

As if his thought called her attention, Natasha turned to look at him as he approached. 

Their gazes locked for a second longer than needed before they both looked the other way. 

Bucky wasn't entirely sure his look had been altogether friendly. 

"Dunkin' Donuts, I thought you were doing recon?" Sam greeted. 

"That's what I said," Holly smiled as she turned to face them, "Apparently doughnuts can be enlightening."

"Oh, I already knew that," Sam smiled, "Please tell me you have a glazed doughnut, they are my favourite." 

Holly handed him her two bags, "Knock yourself out. I have to get changed for training; otherwise, I will be late."

Sam snorted in amusement next to him. 

"Don't let the out exterior fool you. Guys a teddy bear."

Holly flashed him a look, a smile crossing her face. 

"Ignore birdbrain, he is using his one brain cell to focus on the doughnuts," Bucky said, "And you have time to change."

"Right oh, I guess I will see you in a second," she hummed, nodding once at Natasha before entering the door that led to the changing room.

"She was fine," Natasha said.

Bucky glanced at her. 

"She is fine. Today at least. Don't treat her as if she is breakable."

"I'm not."

Natasha gave him a long look before nodding once and walking off, no doubt making her way to debrief Steve and Hill. 

"She's right, you know. Hovering won't help," Sam said. 

"I know, and I'm not hovering," he answered as they both stepped through the double doors and into the gym.

Barton was already there, as were the two others they were working with today. They didn't have to wait long for Holly to join them.

A fresh wave of anger rippled over her as he took in the sight of her scars again, and the Soldier stirred. 

Together the six of them ran through the motions of warming up before paring off. 

He eyed Holly across the mats.

Letting the sounds of the others sparring disappear as he observed her. 

He wasn't sure why he wanted to test the waters with her. 

Why he wanted to see how she would react, but he felt the compelling need to do so. 

He had patience; he had it by the bucket loads, he should wait, hold back. Yet that part of himself that he desperately tried to keep locked away, looked at Holly with assessing scrutiny and smiled. 

Fucking smiled. 

So he would push, just a little, scratch the surface and see what came out afterwards.

He moved. 

She tracked his movements almost instantly, dodging to the left. 

Her face gave nothing away. 

She had quick reflexes. 

He was still holding back himself; it was time to up the ante.

He moved. 

Attacked in a flurry of movements. 

Let his strength and speed bleed through. 

Metal and flesh. 

She didn't disappoint. 

With reflexes as quick as _he_ suspected based on how she had reacted when he startled her, Holly moved. 

Forward, as she spun to the right. 

Left hand wrapping around his arm as she used the momentum of the movement to slam her elbow upwards into the side of his jaw.

She stepped out of the spin, behind him, dancing on the balls of her feet, narrowed eyes watching him closely. 

He turned slowly.

She had gone straight for the knockout button. If she had used a little more strength, used her fist instead of an elbow and she could have knocked him out. 

His lips twitched ever so slightly, his jaw protesting with a stab of pain. 

He ignored it.

Good. That would work if someone else came after her. 

He lunged.

She dodged. 

He pushed. 

She danced. 

She didn't focus on hitting. 

She focused on moving, on keeping herself out of reach of his every punch, of every move he made. 

Edging to the walls. 

Cornering her. 

Gaining the advantage. 

He kicked out. 

Swiping her feet out from under her. 

She slammed down hard. 

A hiss escaped through her teeth as she hit the ground. 

The wind knocked out of her. 

"You're holding back. Stop holding back," Bucky warned. 

She glared at him. 

Before flipping herself up to her feet.

"Is that the best you can do?"

She was mocking him. 

He smirked at her. 

"Show me yours, and I will show you mine."

She charged. 

His heart pounded a little faster as she pushed him back. 

Her movements, controlled, fast and...Unpredictable. 

She kicked. 

Punched. 

Countered.

Danced. 

Back and forth. 

She was a fraction quicker. 

He was stronger. 

Harder. 

Better trained. 

She took a hit to the ribs. 

He took a smack to the nose. 

His eyes watered.

He blinked through it as he lunged forward. 

Right arm wrapping around her waist as soon as he made contact with her.

He lifted her off her feet and threw them downwards. 

She brought a knee up into his stomach, but the movement was too late, they were already falling.

He used his metal arm to take most of the force of the fall softening the blow as he threw them both to the ground.

His body pressed against hers.

He could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

Both of them panting. 

They stilled, eyes connected. 

Green eyes widened in surprise, and then he felt it, the barest of flickers brushing against him, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

The _bonds_.

Her shield snapped into place, cutting off the warmth abruptly. Leaving an icy coldness in the pit of his stomach that crept through him.

Different from his shields, they seemed to pulse with an energy he couldn't quite describe, but he could _see_ them. Multicoloured weaves that shimmered and glistened in his mind's eyes. 

As if they were a river of something. 

Fire? 

But that didn't quite feel right either. 

"You need to get off me."

"Sorry," he mumbled, pushing himself off her, and lifting her up with him. 

As soon as she was on her feet, she took a step back. 

Bucky was aware that they had everyone looking at them.

"Stop holding back. That way, we can help you improve."

"Yeah, right, sorry," Holly mumbled.

He looked at her; she met his gaze head-on. 

"You good to go again."

She gave him a slight smile.

"Yeah, I can go again."

"Try attacking first, not just defending."

No sooner had the words left his mouth; she had already sprung into action, lunging forward at him. 

He blocked the first punch, dodged the second.

A thrill of energy sparked through the bonds, like lightning sparking between them as they danced again.

* * *

Holly wasn't sure how long they had been sparring, but her muscles were beginning to ache. 

She knew Bucky was holding back, on his strength at least, he was undoubtedly using his quickness to his advantage, she could barely keep up, but she was managing. 

Just. 

Then she was used to dodging spells, not punches and kicks. 

Yet despite the bone aching weariness that was starting to sink into her, Holly could say she was enjoying herself. 

She was barely aware of the others in the room. 

"Okay, let's bring it to a close."

Holly eased herself back onto her feet, took a breath as her body relaxed, and she took a sip of water from the bottle that Bucky handed her. 

She couldn't stop the satisfied smirk crossing her lips upon seeing the thin layer of sweat on his forehead. 

She had made him work at least. 

She took another sip of water. 

"Barnes you taking Potter to the shooting range?" Barton called out. 

"That was the plan," Bucky answered, sipping his own water. 

Holly paused and glanced over at Bucky. 

She didn't feel exactly comfortable with the idea of using a gun. 

Bucky turned towards and indicated with a nod to follow him.

"C'mon, Hols. Let's see if we can get you up to Annie Oakley's level."

Holly glanced at him, frowning slightly, who exactly was Annie Oakley and when had she become Hols?

"Who?"

Bucky looked at her, his eyes widened with surprise, "Annie Oakley, sharpshooter and exhibition shooter. A renowned international star."

"Um, no. Sorry, I still don't know who you are talking about," Holly replied, trailing of sheepishly. 

"Right, she was better known as 'Little Sure Shot', part of the Buffalo Bill's Wild West, which was kind of like a circus attraction that toured the States and Europe," he replied softly, as he led her out of the gym.

"Were you a fan?"

Bucky snorted, "I know I'm older than I look, Hols, but I'm not that old. The attraction started in 1883. There was a film called Annie Oakley that came out in 1935. Steve and I went to go and watch it."

"A fan of Westerns?" Holly asked. 

"Liked them as a kid, the whole Wild West had a certain appeal, but in truth, at that age, I was a fan of Barbara Stanwych, the actress who played Annie."

Holly snorted.

Bucky looked at her and smiled slightly, "I was eighteen, and Barbara was a beautiful dame. A guy could dream."

"That's actually adorable."

He threw her a look as he pushed open another door.

The shooting range.

"You know, giving me a gun is not going to be a smart idea, what if I end up shooting someone in the ass? What if I shoot Captain America in the ass? The public will lynch me."

Bucky smirked as he winked at her, "You're right they would, it's America's ass. But I will keep you safe from the mob."

_Oh, boy._

Holly snorted, "I feel safer already. Trademarked yet? Captain America's Ass."

"I'm sure if somebody was to suggest it to Stark, he would get his lawyers on it," he chuckled, "but in hindsight, I won't let you shoot anyone in the ass. I will be working with you every day until the night of the mission, and even then you will be handling I.C.E.R.s - non-lethal, just puts them to sleep."

"Like a baby?"

"So I've been told."

"So I can't accidentally kill someone?"

"No."

Holly felt her shoulders ease ever so slightly, a relief to know that _she_ wouldn't kill anybody. 

Bucky pushed open the door, and Holly followed in behind him. 

The lights blinking to life the moment they stepped in, lightening up the whole room. 

It was long, white, with several dividing booths. 

There were targets everywhere. 

Paper targets with outlined silhouettes lining the wall.

It reminded her of the Room of Requirements and fifth year. 

"What do you know about guns?"

"They are loud. And they can kill people."

"Technically. Though it's more people kill people, and idiots with guns are the worst combination," Bucky replied.

"Then I am definitely an idiot," Holly muttered.

Give her a wand over a gun any day; at least she knew she consciously had to cast a spell either verbally or non-verbally to hurt somebody. It wouldn't just take a slip of a finger with a gun. 

"Not if you take in what I am going to teach you. We will be working with a gun that is a similar design and shape of a Smith & Wesson M&P 9. It will be exactly the same _shape, feel and weight _when it is an actual I.C.E.R. The difference today is, we are shooting with rubber bullets."

Holly's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the relief the fact that she wouldn't accidentally kill Bucky or herself was welcoming.

"First things first, gun safety."

Holly wetted her lips nervously as she stood and listened. 

"Rule one; always keep the gun pointed in a safe direction."

Holly nodded her head in understanding. Common sense, straightforward, she would be able to do that.

"Rule two; always keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot."

"Got it."

"Be a hundred per cent certain that you have identified your target, beyond any doubt."

That was something Holly knew she could do. Something that all Aurors were trained to learn. Hurting the innocent bystanders was an unacceptable outcome. 

"If you draw your weapon, be prepared to shoot. Face that reality here and now, that if that weapon is in your hands, then you will be shooting another person. Doesn't matter if they are the bad guys, it doesn't matter if you know your gun won't kill them. One day you might have a gun in your hands that will," Bucky said firmly, "If it's in your hands if you are facing down an opponent, be prepared to shoot. Because you won't have the luxury to not. Not in this job. If they are the enemy, I guarantee they won't hesitate and then it will be you that will be dead, and anyone else with you."

Holly's heart clenched tightly as she swallowed slowly, her gaze locked onto Bucky's.

His blue eyes had hardened with coldness, his tone distant as he brought to a close the last lesson, the most important lesson of all. 

It was a valuable lesson, and one she knew well. Holly had long since accepted that her actions had consequences. Every single one of them. She had learnt that hesitation gets people killed, gets people she loves killed. Gets her entire team of Auror's killed.

She no longer hesitated. 

She gave one chance, and one chance only for somebody to back away, but she didn't hesitate when it came to fighting when it came to saving lives. 

Holly had learnt she couldn't afford that. 

Whether it would feel different with a gun in her hands, rather than a wand, was hard to say. Her knowledge of spells gave her unlimited options, not all of them lethal.

A gun, a gun, only left one option. 

But Holly knew that if it came down to it. She wouldn't hesitate. 

It was a cold truth and one that she felt guilty over because she didn't feel guilty about not hesitating.

Holly gave a slight nod to say she understood and Bucky turned his attention to the gun lying on the table at one of the booths.

He ran through how to load the magazine correctly with the bullets before sliding the first magazine into the gun. 

Despite the gun being lightweight, according to Bucky, it still felt heavy, solid, real in her hands and so very different from a wand. 

It didn't feel right. 

Once the gun was loaded, he had her place it back on the table before loading more magazines until he was satisfied _she_ knew how to do it.

"Usually goggles and ear protection are worn, but out in the field, you aren't going to have that option. So I want you to learn without them, get you used to everything," he said softly, as he picked up the gun and handed it to her.

He gently pushed her arm away, pointing the gun towards the targets. 

A strange sense of calm settled over her snuffing out any nervous jitters about handling a gun. 

It was a new weapon to her, one that she rarely handled, but Holly wasn't a stranger to weapons, wasn't a stranger to marking targets, to aiming and firing. 

"There is a thumb safety on this model that needs to be deactivated, but the I.C.E.R.s will be set up to register your fingerprints. They won't work for anybody else, but you, in your hands," Bucky said. 

Holly slipped her thumb over the safety and flicked it upwards. 

Bucky flicked a switch, and a paper target moved closer, stopping about halfway between the far wall and the table.

"We will start off at this distance first, and work our way up."

Holly stepped forward, as Bucky moved closer to her. 

"That's your target. You have to keep your eye on the target, but be aware of what is going on around you. See your environment, see everything around your target, be aware of any innocent by standards, and be aware of other enemies," Bucky said gently. 

"Stand up straight. Shoulder's back." Bucky rested his hands on her shoulders as she followed his instructions. 

She couldn't help but wonder if he could hear her heart pounding. Could he feel it?

He slid his hands from her shoulders, and Holly couldn't help but shiver slightly, when exactly had that been a weak spot for her, his fingers trailing down to her elbows. 

His breath tickled the side of her neck; it made her skin prickle and the hair on her arms stand to attention. She was hyperaware that she was armed, and he was standing close to her.

Too close. 

She swallowed slowly.

"Just relax," he whispered, "You're going to breathe in, focus along the sight, and as you exhale, you're going to squeeze the trigger. Squeeze with steady, firm pressure."

Holly nodded. 

His hands travelled back to her shoulders.

"Okay, you're going to take three breaths. The third time you exhale, you shoot."

Holly took a breath.

She could so this, she knew how to aim; she knew how to fire a spell. 

Firing a gun should be no different. 

She took a second breath, focused on the target, her eyes finding the spot she intended to hit. 

Holly squeezed the trigger as she exhaled for the third time. 

Holly knew it would be loud, and it was, but she hadn't expected the recoil. 

She jerked backwards, colliding with Bucky's chest. His hands caught her hips, steadying her. Her ears rang, and Holly felt the heat rise to her checks as every nerve in her body sparked.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

His hands skimmed up from her hips to her sides. 

Holly felt tiny electrical zaps under her skin where his fingers trailed. 

"I should have warned you," Bucky said slowly, though Holly could hear the catch in his throat. He cleared his throat, "Okay, let's try it again. Just take your time. Sight down your shoulder and along your arm. Squeeze smoothly."

Holly closed her eyes and took a breath.

She could do this.

She could do this.

She could aim, and she could fire. 

She was in control. 

Holly opened her eyes. Focused on the target. 

Slipped into the coldness that lived inside of her. Pushing everything else aside.

It wasn't a gun in her hand, it was just a wand. A wand without the hand movements, the flicks and the turns and twists. 

Holly raised the gun, aimed at the paper silhouettes, and squeezed the trigger. 

She was ready for the recoil, her body allowing for it, without jerking backwards. 

She squeezed off the rest of the shots with a stable hand.

Her ears were ringing once the last rubber bullet left the chamber. Without waiting for Bucky to instruct she flipped the safety switch back on, lowered the gun and rested it on the table. 

Bucky pressed the button, and the paper silhouette moved closer. 

"You sure you haven't fired a gun before?"

"No, I definitely haven't fired a gun before. I have had to aim things at people before though."

"Beginners luck then, you have six out of nine on target. Let's see if you can do it again."

And Bucky meant precisely that. 

He had her practise shooting until all the magazines she had loaded were empty, and her hand ached. 

Holly was pretty sure that she would be able to do the movements in her sleep by memory alone.

Not that all of them were on target, but it was only her first day; she wouldn't become an expert in a couple of hours. 

Or even a week, but if she learned enough _not_ to hit an ally, then Holly would be content with that. 

Even if she didn't like it. 

"That's enough for today. You've done well, we will continue to work on it, and we will get you feeling confident enough to handle one in the field."

Holly snorted, "I don't think that is likely." 

Bucky gave her a small smile, "Confident enough not to hit anyone other than those you are supposed to hit." He corrected before continuing, "It will be the same time tomorrow. Gym first to work with the others, and then the shooting range."

Holly nodded, that sounded doable. 

Maybe.

The two of them chatted as they tidied away the weapons, Bucky locking them up in one of the lockers that stored those kept at the range for training purposes before they exited the room. 

"What are you doing for lunch?" Bucky asked as they made their way towards the changing room. 

"Tank and Jax invited me to lunch with the others. Since I wasn't with them for the tour I think they are curious, plus I think not working with SHIELD -" she trailed off. 

"Makes everyone want to know your story."

"I guess," Holly shrugged. She was personally under the impression they wanted to dissect her to determine just who she was. 

"I could always give you a job as an excuse not to go."

Holly laughed softly, "Don't tempt me."

He gave her a slight smile. 

"You have the work phone, right?"

"Yeah, it's in my locker."

"Jarvis, can you send Hols my number," Bucky said. 

"Of course, Sergeant Barnes."

"And send me hers."

Holly frowned. 

"Stark has them linked up to Jarvis so he can send a message to us all if we need it. Useful in an emergency," Bucky explained, "Message me if you need rescuing from your lunch."

Holly smiled, "I will do that."

"Enjoy your lunch Hols."

"Thanks," she muttered, watching his retreating form as he made his way to the lift. 

With a shake of her head she turned to the changing room doors and pushed them open just as Tank and Jax opened it from the other side. 

"Oh good, you're done," Tank greeted.

"Yeah, I won't be long I just need to change."

"We will wait."

"Okay."

The door closed behind them and Holly took the moment she was alone to let out a breath. 

It had been a long day and it wasn't over yet. 

But between crossing paths with Graves, an Auror from MACUSA in the most surprising of places, though Holly wasn't sure who was surprised the most - him or her. 

Finding out about a shipment and Hydra cells she was on edge. 

"The day's not over yet."

With a shake of her head, Holly grabbed her clothes before making her way towards the showers.

* * *

Holly watched as Starks employees avoided the five of them like they were the plague. 

Almost as if because they worked on the upper levels of the Tower they were to be avoided at all costs. 

"Is it always like this?" Holly asked. 

The five of them had commandeered a table in the cafeteria on the lower floors of the Tower. 

"From what we can gather. They know we work in the Tower, that we work on the upper floors with the Avengers but nobody really knows what it is we actually do," Jax answered, "So they avoid us."

"Why?"

"We don't fit into the rest of the Tower. Besides Phillips, none of us are scientists. So we aren't busy working in the labs developing new and wonderful things to help Stark Industries prosper."

"I'm an engineer, not a scientist," Phillips said pointedly. 

"Yes, and the Tower has floors dedicated to engineers as well as scientists," Jax countered, "You have the Finance Department. HR. PR. Scientists. Labs. Engineers. Legal. Project Managers, practically anything you could possibly think of, and then you have...us," Tank said, shrugging, "that works with the Avengers."

"Right, so we are like aliens or something because we don't fit into those boxes."

"Pretty much. Doesn't help that we are former SHIELD."

"Right, got you." Holly nodded as she plucked a fry from her plate, her eyes scanning the cafeteria again. 

She had to give Stark credit, he considered the well being of his staff. 

The cafeteria covered the whole of the 30th floor. Half set out like a cafeteria, which had massive screens broadcasting whatever channels people wanted. The other half Holly would say resembled more of a common area, consisting of comfortable sofas and chairs, a few game stations, which she could see that some of Stark's security were currently occupying in their free time. 

She sipped her drink and picked another fry, listening as the others chatted around her, offering her two Knuts worth when she wanted, but generally enjoying herself. 

It was different, and while she had stuck to the same story when answering the questions they threw her way, Holly found that the others were a little more relaxed. 

There was still the suspicious edge to them, but less suspicion directed her way. 

For the time being.

She learnt little bits of information as she listened to them. 

She learned the healthy level of respect that they had for both Barton and Romanoff, who had been one of them even before they saved the world. 

They answered her questions, they joked and they laughed.

Holly found herself joining in. 

She sent a quick message to Bucky, to reassure him that she didn't need rescuing, to which he responded equally as quickly with a smiley face before stating he might need rescuing from debriefing. 

Holly swallowed the snort, before taking a bite of her chicken burger. 

"I have to ask who comes up with the monikers. I mean Hawkeye; you mentioned a Mockingbird and the Calvary?" Holly asked. She wasn't sure if they were quite as bad as the ones the Wizarding World had come up for her. 

"Every name has its origin in how the agent got it. I don't think anyone really knows the full story about any of them, but the agents themselves," Jax answered, a twisted pained look crossed his face as he continued, "our old Commander used to say that those who end up with a name, survived what should have killed them. So when they rise through the fire and blood, they are christened with a new name."

"What happened to him?" Holly asked.

Tension emanated from them all, Holly instantly regretted the question. Tank had an intense cold stare as he looked at her. Jax's jaw clenched tightly.

"Hydra," she answered for them understanding dawning on her, "I'm sorry."

"Bastard was Hydra, high up," Tank agreed. 

"From what the reports say, he was one of the Sons of bitches that helped keep the leash on the Winter Soldier. Who led the attack on Fury, on it all," Sawyer informed her. 

"Don't call him that," Holly said firmly. 

All eyes looked at her, Sawyer's widened in surprise, but Holly refused to flinch under their intense stare. 

"He killed a lot of us that day," Phillips said quietly. 

"I know, not by choice," Holly answered. 

"You weren't there Holly, you don't know what it was like," Tank growled. 

She turned looked up at him, the intensity of his cold rage pressing down on her skin.

She refused to back down from it.

Holly understood his rage. 

Merlin knew it was justified. 

She knew what it was like to be in the middle of a battle fighting for her life while friends and family died around her, killed by those who claimed they were allies. 

"Have you been a captive? A prisoner of War. Held in enemy hands? Tortured?" She asked slowly, ensuring her tone was as neutral as she could make it. "Have you ever had someone mess with your head so you can't remember who you are, or whether it is day or night?"

"Yes," Tank admitted.

Holly let her face show more than understanding as she looked at Tank. Tank whose eyes softened ever so slightly with realisation. 

"Barnes had all that and more for seventy years. None of us knows what Hydra put him through," she continued. Carefully ensuring she referred to him as his last name. 

Holly took a breath, trying to convey her point, without revealing too much of her own past, or even her connection to Bucky. 

"Your anger at Hydra is justified. Your anger at your Commander is justified. He was family, your brother, your leader, you would have died for him. And he betrayed you...stabbed you in the back. Barnes isn't your enemy though. You need to stop thinking of him like that."

"Have you ever been betrayed by someone you looked up to? That you trusted?" Tank asked.

Holly swallowed the lump forming in her throat, her mind conjuring the image of Dumbledore almost instantly. She had loved him, trusted him, and looked up to him. He hadn't been evil, but he had betrayed her in more ways than she could truly forgive him. He had known about the Dursleys, and he sent her back there every year. He let her face every trial each year she had been in school. Testing her merit, her strength, her heart all so she could die at the appointed time. 

Dumbledore hadn't known she would survive Riddle killing her. 

He couldn't have possibly known.

He had never intended her to survive the war. 

"Yes," she answered, meeting Tank's gaze with her own, letting him know she knew that kind of betrayal. 

She had perhaps revealed more about herself than that one word should have done so, but it was necessary, and if it meant that they would see Bucky as a person rather than the enemy then it was worth it. 

Bucky didn't deserve their hatred. 

None of them said anything, continuing to eat their lunch in silence and Holly felt the tiniest bit guilty of that. She hadn't intended to dampen the mood when she had asked about the monikers that some of them seemed to carry. 

Holly was aware of someone approaching their table as she picked up another fry. 

From the way the others tensed, she wasn't the only one. A sombre mood had fallen over them, but that didn't mean they weren't aware of what was happening around them. 

Holly glanced up from her plate, fixing on the man approaching. 

He was dressed in all black, Stark Security logo on the sleeve of his shirt that seemed to bulk from the muscles in his arms. Blue eyes hidden behind bruises looked down at her. 

Williams.

The guy she had sparred against yesterday. 

Merlin had it only been a day since her episode in the medical wing. 

**Don't think about it**.

She steeled her spine as she observed him. 

He still gave the impression he wasn't someone that you wanted to cross, same confident swagger to him, and though Holly wasn't sure it quite crossed the line to arrogant, he was borderline. 

A smile that some would consider charming crossed his lips.

He was good looking, even under the bruises. Holly could admit that she wasn't blind after all, but she ignored it all as she took note of the smaller details. 

Like how the cold darkness shifted inside of her, and eyes opened, and limbs unfurled and claws kneaded her mind.

Her senses were hyper-alert and stretching outwards, testing and tasting.

A coppery scent mixed with a deep, overpowering smell of wet earth that brought images of decay and mould to her mind. The sickening stench slithered down her throat and made her want to vomit. 

The hair on the back of her neck stood to attention, and her magic hissed, drew tight ready and waiting like a bow and arrow to strike away the cause of her unease. 

Her eyes narrowed at Williams. 

She hadn't had any weird vibes off him yesterday, yet everything inside of her was screaming for her to take a step back. 

Holly tilted her head to the side as she attempted to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. 

Magic. 

But that couldn't be right. 

Was it on Williams, or was it coming from Williams? 

Holly wasn't sure and she dared not make a move until she was. 

"Potter," he nodded his head towards her, threw her a sheepish look, which Holly couldn't quite determine whether was genuine or not.

"I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I overstepped."

Holly blinked in surprise. 

He sounded genuine, he was saying all the right words, making all the right gestures. 

Holly nodded in acknowledgement, "Apology accepted, but like Barton said, what happens in the training room isn't taken out of the training room. So no hard feelings."

He gave her a smile that Holly gathered was supposed to be dazzling. 

All teeth.

The darkness growled, snapping its own teeth in response as it lunged forward. 

Holly pulled it back, gripping tightly with all the strength of will she could muster, wincing inwardly, as she grappled with her magic...with the power. 

_I hear you loud and clear, you don't have to be quite so loud,_ she grumbled. 

_Danger._

_Why?_

She received a huff in response. 

Holly swallowed the snort, right if she was too stupid to realise why then why should _it_ answer her. 

Holly really needed to understand what was happening to her, before she lost control entirely because there were days when Holly _knew_ it was a close call.

She swallowed back the anger that was threatening to tear free from her, grateful that nobody else seemed to have noticed her internal battle, though Williams was still hovering. 

Right, he was apologising. 

She had accepted his apology, though. 

She flashed him her own smile in response to his, hoping that it would satisfy him enough to make him go away. 

Surprisingly it worked, though she couldn't help but note that his smile widened a fraction before he turned on his heel and walked away. 

"Did I miss something then?" she asked. 

"Besides someone's poor attempt of flirting, no," Jax replied. 

"Come again?" Holly choked.

"He was laying it on a bit thick," Phillips hummed in agreement. 

Holly blinked, "Seriously?" 

Phillips looked at her, "From what I hear the guy is a serious flirt. Will flirt with anything that has legs and breasts."

"I'm not sure if you are insulting me there," Holly replied. 

Phillips snorted, "You interested."

"Nope!" she squeaked in response. 

"Not available?" Jax smirked. 

"I'm so unavailable like the dead aren't available unavailable."

The last thing she needed was to start some fling with someone, and that was before she took into account the awkwardness already between her, Bucky and Steve. 

Adding that particular element, even if none of them owed anything to the other was just asking for trouble. 

"That's a specific kind of unavailable," Tank snorted, "The grapevine states Williams wants to work on the upper levels."

Holly glanced at Tank, she already knew that, but she was surprised he knew that. 

"How do you know that?"

"It pays to pay attention, and while they," he nodded towards everyone else, "are avoiding us, doesn't mean they don't gossip."

"I will take your word for it."

"Show caution, either way, Holly, there is just something off about the guy."

Tank didn't have to tell her, her own instincts were screaming that there was something off about Williams. Problem was if it involved magic, Holly was pretty sure she was going to have to pay close attention to him. At least until she could figure out whether the magic was from him, or on him.

The rest of lunch passed with little excitement.

Chatter returned, and the conversation stayed on lighter topics, before Holly was even really aware of the time, her phone beeped with a message to meet Steve in the War Room, prior to them leaving for the stake-out. 


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, kudos, bookmarked and subscribed. 
> 
> I really appreciate the support you are all given and I am taken away by how many of you are enjoying the story so far and amazing encouragement you give. You are truly wonderful and I cannot express how much I love hearing from you. 
> 
> I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, however you may have spent it and I hope you all have a fabulous and safe New Year.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter.

**Chapter 8:-**

Holly shifted in her seat. 

She was sure her legs had gone numb. Only she wasn't sure if it was down to the cold, or because she had been sitting for too long in the same position.

Though she supposed it could have been a combination of the two elements. 

She really wished she had worn her jumper from Mrs Weasley. The witch had a way with enchanting them as she knitted them so that they would always keep you warm. 

But maroon or green didn't precisely scream subtle and subtle was what they needed when camping out in an SUV on a stakeout.

Subtle she could do, though she wasn't sure an SUV fit that particular description.

Holly reached for the jelly beans, the second relevant 'S' when it came to stakeouts - Snacks, confident in the knowledge with them being the muggle kind she wasn't about to pick up a vomit flavour, before popping a few into her mouth.

She shifted in her seat again, rubbing her hands together. 

It was cold tonight, the temperature steadily dropping. 

"My jacket is on the back seat if you are cold."

Holly blinked in surprise as she looked up at the man sitting next to her. For the last hour and a half, you could have cut through the silence in the SUV like a knife through butter. They had said brief words to each other, or more Steve had relayed instructions and Holly had followed them.

"Thank you," Holly muttered as she reached around, carefully avoiding the two hot flasks perched in the middle cup holders, and grabbed his jacket. 

"You aren't cold?" she asked, laying his jacket across her knees, tucking it a little more around the side of her legs. 

"This isn't cold," he replied, his lips twitching ever so slightly, "but it does help that I run hotter than average."

"The serum?" She supposed he was right, it wasn't cold, at least not cold how Hogwarts had been cold, but it was a different type of cold and sitting doing nothing was certainly making her feel it. 

"The serum." He nodded in confirmation, his eyes never leaving the location they were staking out. 

They had been there since three, carefully parked down one of the streets opposite one of the possible locations - A Container Terminal located in Brooklyn.

Holly had been surprised that she wasn't staking out the location she had visited earlier, but she didn't question it. 

From their vantage point, they could see any vehicles coming and going, whether they were cars or trucks. Holly had lost track of how many plates she had photographed and sent to Jarvis to allow him to gather all the information he could. 

She knew Bucky and Sam were somewhere else, watching from a different vantage point, seeing an entirely different scene. 

But between the four of them, they had sights on where the containers were unloaded, and the exit for any vehicle leaving. 

"Logically, would they show up before the night the shipment is due?" Holly asked, breaking the silence that had fallen once again.

Holly didn't find silence uncomfortable, or at least she usually didn't. But being this close to Steve was making her hyperaware of him, of the bonds. 

And she didn't want to focus on them, so she needed to distract herself from it. 

"Probable. Get a lay for the land, work out what route to take - go over every minor detail they need to go over."

"Are they likely to spot us if they do?"

Holly already knew that answer, having discreetly cast a Notice-me-not Charm on both their vehicle and the one Bucky and Sam were using. 

It wasn't as powerful as the Disillusionment Charm, but casting that particular spell on a moving vehicle that would be around other moving vehicles was asking for trouble. Blending something into the background was all well and good but other vehicles needed to be able to see other cars to not crash into them. 

Instead, the charm offered a layer of protection that would allow the vehicle to register in someone's line of sight, but the attention and focus to the details of the plate number and whether anybody was sitting in it all night would be tricky.

Unless somebody was looking for them specifically and they knew what they were looking for.

But Steve didn't know about magic, didn't know she had offered her contribution in protecting them as best she could. 

So she asked because she _needed_ to know what Steve had planned in case something did crop up.

Steve looked at her; even with the shadows dancing across his face she could see the burning intensity in his eyes as he did, the silent promise that if they ended up in trouble he would ensure she was safe. She stared back, refusing to give an inch, with a clear statement of her own that she would have his back and he wouldn't need to protect her if things went south.

"You don't need to worry about that, we have taken every precaution that we can," he reassured. 

"I never said I was worried," she answered slowly. 

And she wasn't worried, she trusted her magic.

But Steve didn't know that and was entirely in his right to think she would be worried about a confrontation. 

Steve's natural instincts seemed to lean towards protecting others, standing up against those who would dare to abuse their power, their position to threaten others. Those who wanted to tear the world down and destroy everything that didn't fit into 'their' world order. 

He would have fought tooth and nail against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and despite not having knowledge of the Wizarding World, Holly had no doubt in her mind that he would have presented a challenge to them.

They fell silent again. 

Holly shuffled. 

Yep, her ass had definitely gone numb. 

Merlin, she was better than this. 

She had conducted her own stakeouts in the past and had handled them fine. Yet this one was having her feel like she was eleven years old all over again without a clue as to what she was doing.

She was better than that.

Holly steeled herself, strengthened her shields and reached for the calming cooling darkness and wrapped it around her tightly. 

She needed it more than she wanted to admit, because sitting next to Steve even with her shields in place, she could feel the zingy energy crackling in the air between them. 

She wasn't sure he was aware he was doing it. The bonds between them attempting to reach and connect. Knowing they were close and yet both of them were shielding, refusing to give an inch. 

Did she break the silence?

Or did she wait it out?

"You're thinking about the bonds to hard."

Holly looked up at him, her eyes widening. 

"Come again."

"I can feel it, whenever you give attention to them like it gets an extra boost to push against my shields."

Holly wasn't sure whether she should apologise or not. 

"The double-edged sword. As soon as you are told not to think about something you think about it."

"Yes."

"What does it feel like?" Her curiosity getting the better of her. 

This time it was Steve that shifted in his seat.

"Hot and cold. It's strange; it's like a burning star pressing against my skin that is both hot and cold like it can't decide what it wants to be. But even that is an oversimplification. It's stronger than that, deeper, like an explosion of clashing forces."

"You feel hot. Like the sun," Holly admitted, "And Bucky is like the ocean, calm except when it isn't. Cold as well."

Steve snorted, "He's always been like that, but it has more ice now."

Her insides wiggled uncomfortably. 

Twisting vines of thorns and ice. Holly was painfully aware of the history Steve had with Bucky, decades before she had even been born. It connected them in a way she would never be able to fully understand.

She nibbled at her bottom lip, letting her mind whirl with thoughts. 

"How about we play a game? It will keep us both occupied and stop us falling asleep," Steve suggested, as he helped himself to some jelly beans.

"What kind of game are you thinking of?" Holly asked, looking at him in surprise. 

"Two facts and one fiction."

"Two facts about what?" Holly said with a raised eyebrow.

"About ourselves, and the other is a statement that is untrue about ourselves, and then we have to guess which are true and which is untrue," Steve answered, "The game is actually called Two truths and one lie, but I prefer my version."

"And we don't have to expand on the truths?" Holly asked, frowning slightly. 

"No. Neither of us has to expand any further than a statement if we don't want to," Steve said slowly, his tone gentle and soothing. 

Holly hesitated, her mind spinning over the idea. She didn't have to reveal anything she didn't want to. Steve was giving her complete control over what truths she told.

But she would have to tell some truths. 

So long as she was careful, Holly didn't see an argument for why she couldn't play. 

"Okay, let's play," she nodded, flashing a smile. Steve looked at her, though Holly wasn't sure what was going through his mind, before offering a smile of his own.

"Ladies first," Steve prompted.

Holly fell silent, slowly pondering her two truths. She would start off slow first, ones that she didn't mind sharing, light-hearted, ones that didn't give too much away about things she didn't want to think about. 

"My Aunt once shaved my hair off. I wore my cousin's hand-me-downs. And I was the most popular girl in my school before boarding school," Holly answered. 

Steve coughed struggling with amusement, "Your aunt shaving your hair off has got to be fiction."

"Final answer?"

"Final answer," he nodded. 

"Sorry to say, Captain, that was a truth," Holly chuckled. 

"Why?" he spluttered as he glanced at her. 

"My hair was unruly, didn't matter how you cut it when I was five, it had a way of sticking up at all angles like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards. My aunt, I think had reached the end of her tether that day and just shaved it all off."

"The hand-me-downs?"

"Also a truth. I was a loner in school, not the most popular girl," Holly confirmed, not expanding that her cousin used to beat people up that even thought about making friends with her, "Plus kids can be cruel."

"Yes they can," Steve agreed. 

"Your go."

Steve took a few minutes to think before answering, "I used to stuff newspapers in my shoes. I threw up on the Cyclone roller coaster at Coney Island. And I joined the army the same time as Bucky."

Holly nibbled her bottom lip. She knew the newspaper in shoes was likely to be true. Times were hard in the 20s, and 30s and shoes had cost a lot of money. The likely hood of being able to afford to buy new ones regularly was unlikely. 

She could admit to herself, besides knowing Captain America's history with Hydra and being a large part in their downfall during World War 2, she didn't know enough about his past to know all the facts. 

"I'm going to say you throwing up on the Cyclone is a lie," she said uncertainly. 

"That one is true. I didn't have the strongest stomachs when I was younger," Steve answered, "I didn't join with Bucky; I was rejected several times before I was given a chance with Project Rebirth."

"How? I mean, I know how you were rejected, but I thought it was marked on your file once you had been rejected?" Holly asked in surprise. 

"I changed where I was from each time."

"You are stubbornly determined when you put your mind to something, aren't you."

"I needed to do my part," he admitted quietly. 

"I can understand that, and you did. You both did," Holly said softly, "Every single person who fought in that war did their part, did more than their part. They allowed us to continue on with our freedom, we just screwed everything up afterwards." 

Holly reached for a few more Jelly Beans, thinking about her next two truths and one fiction. 

"I found myself in the school medical room that often, the school nurse had a plaque over one of the beds with my name on it. I joined my house sports team when I was eleven. At twelve, my friend and I borrowed his dad's car to get to school because we missed the train."

She smiled slightly; it was a truth, even if it involved flying rather than actual driving on the road. 

"I really want to say the borrowed car at twelve, but from the smile on your face I have a sinking feeling that one is actually true," Steve declared, his eyes narrowed as he glanced at her. 

Holly shrugged as she swept her gaze out of the windows. Not a single vehicle had passed for the last forty-five minutes. 

"The plaque over the bed has to be fiction," he finally committed. 

"You would be correct, I was accident-prone and she did threaten to do it many times, but she never actually did it," Holly admitted. 

"So in trouble all the time then?" he asked casually. 

"My Professors would certainly agree with that statement, but in my defence, I wasn't in trouble for the sake of being in trouble, or because I thought it was cool to get the most detentions. It was always for good reasons."

"Like what?" Steve's eyebrow rose. 

Holly glanced at him; she could see the amusement in his face by the crinkle around his eyes. Not to mention the tone, amusement definitely laced that question. 

She thought about her answer, she could use so many examples yet each one would raise more questions, questions Holly wanted to avoid. 

"The grounds keeper at the school was a gentle giant, had a love and passion for animals. He ended up getting a pet that wasn't considered exactly legal by winning it in a poker game," Holly said finally. 

"Dare I even ask what the pet was?"

"Think wild, deadly and exotic. That is cute when it's first born, but would grow considerably large," Holly answered, "One of the pupils in a rival school house, I guess you could say he was like our archenemies at eleven, or he certainly liked to think himself as that. Always wanting to get me in trouble, he saw the pet and it was just a matter of time before he told someone and Hagrid would end up getting the sack."

"What exactly did you do Holly?" Steve asked, a frown creasing his forehead. 

"My friend had a brother who was a keeper at a reserve, so we contacted him and then we tried to smuggle the animal out of the school."

"And you got caught?"

"Oh no, we managed to get the animal out of the school, we just got caught out of bed at one in the morning," Holly smiled at the memory. She had thought she was going to be expelled at that particular point. 

Steve chuckled, "A rebel with a cause."

"Don't judge 'Mr I will try and join the army seven times by falsifying my documents'. I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

"Oh, it is," Steve winced, "I was always finding myself in trouble and Bucky was always pulling me out of it."

Holly flashed him a smile, "My friends would say the same. Only more often and not they ended up neck deep right alongside me."

"You miss them," Steve said gently. 

Holly nodded once, she did miss them. But missing them didn't change anything. 

Shoving the feelings down, she turned to Steve who was watching her with too observant eyes. She had no doubt that he had caught the look that had crossed her face. 

"Whose go is it next?" she smiled a forced smile, but a smile never the less and that had to count for something. 

The two of them continued passing back and forth two truths and one fiction as the minutes ticked by.

A little more outlandish with every turn. 

Of course, it was also a perfect opening to learn a little more about the other, and Holly could see why Steve had chosen it. It was a smart way of getting someone to open up without the feeling of interrogation.

Even knowing this Holly couldn't help but find herself relaxing a little more with her goes, her competitive side rearing its head as she managed to catch Steve out a few times. 

But then her life, without the knowledge of magic or the content of her truths sounded fictitious. 

It wasn't just Steve that was learning though, Holly was, in turn, learning about Steve. 

She hadn't known about the 'Captain America tour', and or the 'I punched Hitler' scene, even if it had just been an actor.

"My godfather was an escaped convict. I once performed at the Sydney Opera house, and I led an illegal club when I was fifteen," she said slowly. 

It was the first time she had mentioned anything about the darker side of her past. A connection to a War she wasn't entirely sure she had ever left and to a man who had spent over half of her life wanting her dead. 

Even if Steve would never know what those statements meant.

"It's meant to be one fiction, Holly."

"Oh, I know, means two of those statements are true," she said, a smirk crossing her face. 

He blinked at her, "I can't possibly determine which one of them is fiction, two of them should definitely be fiction."

"And yet two of them are true," she answered as she looked out of the window. 

"Do you know based on all three I'm going to pick the one that should definitely be true and say it its fiction. You once performed at the Sydney Opera House."

She looked at him as she started to reply, pausing before the first word passed her lips, a flash of lights caught her attention in the side mirror. 

She frowned. 

Car lights?

"Am I right, or am I wrong?"

"Steve," Holly warned, using the turn of her head to glance out of the rear window.

"What's wrong?" He said sharply, all hints of amusement vanishing as he tensed at the sound of her voice. 

"We are about to have company, a cop car has just pulled up behind us," Holly answered, calmly. 

Her heartbeat pounded a little harder. The Notice-Me-Not spell should hold. 

Unless these cops were looking for them.

"What do you want to do?" She asked, glancing at Steve. 

He was looking at the rear-view mirror. 

"If we move, we make ourselves more obvious," he answered slowly; "I can't see the shop number with it parked behind us."

He pressed a button, "Jarvis, are there any assigned patrol cars at our current location?"

"New York City dispatch shows no units are at your current location, Captain." 

"Not many people will question seeing a patrol car. It's just doing what it is supposed to be doing. Patrolling," Holly confirmed, "It's kind of a genius cover when you think about it."

"So it could be here staking out the place like we are, and if we move we tip our hand, they may not realise we are here yet."

"Or they have clocked us," Holly finished, "Do you want me to message the others?"

"Yeah, we need them on standby. Jarvis, inform Natasha and Hill our current situation please."

"Of course, Captain."

Holly fired a message to Bucky, which he quickly responded to. 

"Bucky says they are on their way," she said.

"Have them hold back, but closer to hand than their current position," Steve ordered, before glancing at her. 

"Are you armed?"

Holly glanced at him, their gazes locking. She could hear the unasked question, was she ready for a fight if it came down to it. 

"I am. Knives in each boot and a few other places, never know when you need to cut your way out of some ropes," she admitted. She had her wand on her as well, but that was the last resort.

Steve nodded, turning his attention back to the mirrors. 

She couldn't read his expression, it was blank as a wall, but she could tell he was thinking, his mind racing over possible plans and outcomes no doubt. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white and his gaze darted between his side mirror and the rear-view mirror. 

Her stomach hardened in anticipation, jittery nerves sparking through her body as she eased into a battle stance, ready and waiting to move if she needed to. 

Seconds turned to minutes. 

Neither of them dared to breathe too loud or make a sound, and yet whoever was in the patrol car didn't move a muscle. 

It was an odd sort of standoff. 

The only thing breaking the tension were Hill and Romanoff quietly communicating, through the channel Steve had activated in the car between them and the Tower. She had dialled Bucky and was currently on speak phone with them so they could be in easy communication as well. 

"Are we thinking Hydra?" Hill asked. 

"Too much of a coincidence if it isn't," Steve replied.

"It could be a potential buyer staking out the place," Romanoff added. 

"What do you want to do Rogers?" Hill asked.

"If we can, taking them in is too good an opportunity to miss, regardless of if they are Hydra or the buyer, they are going to have information. However, if they suddenly go missing, then Hydra is going to know something is up," Steve answered. 

"Not if we turn them over to the Intelligence Unit once we have finished questioning them. Impersonating police officers is an offence. Add in the fake patrol car, and they should be able to hold them for a while. Have it leaked through the channels that they have had to arrest them," Romanoff suggested.

"That could work especially if they are committing a crime while impersonating an officer of the law," Hill said, "Have it look like nothing more than a simple arrest, and it gives a reason why they have disappeared for a while."

"And it potentially ties them up with the whole process for a few days if not longer," Steve finished.

Holly half-listened to them, ideas whirling around in her mind how they could apprehend whoever was in the car, should Steve decide that was the route they were taking. 

Only one came to mind that would necessarily avoid bullets flying through the air. 

Possibly. 

Maybe.

"I might have an idea," Holly said, glancing towards Steve. His attention snapped to her as soon as the words left her mouth, "It isn't brilliant, but it should work and if it does it will distract them long enough that it shouldn't turn into a full-blown gunfight."

"Go on Potter," Hill prompted. 

"I distract them," she said slowly, Steve's eyes narrowed slightly, but he stayed silent as she continued, laying out the plan.

She would approach them, asking them for assistance as she was having car problems and Holly knew nothing about cars to make that believable, so long as she put on a good enough show, it would work. 

Silence followed. 

"It was either that, or I attempted to pull of being a prostitute but I'm not sure they would be blazon enough to approach a marked patrol car," she added with a smile, to ease the growing tension filling the car. 

"It would work," Romanoff agreed, breaking the silence. "It's the best we have that doesn't involve a gunfight in the middle of a street. Hydra would recognise the rest of you, Potter is an unknown face."

Holly wasn't sure what to make of Romanoff agreeing with her, but then she had no doubt it Romanoff was here, then she would have offered to play bait. It was a move she would make.

"It's risky," Bucky pointed out. 

"It is, but I know the three of you will have my back. We need to decide what we are doing soon," Holly agreed. 

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Steve said, his eyes never left her face. Holly couldn't read what emotions were crossing them, but from the bubbling heat that was currently pressing against her skin from the bonds she wasn't sure she wanted to. 

"You aren't asking, it was my idea," she countered, her voice strong and confident. Holly was used to these situations, she knew what she was doing, even if the others didn't know the true extent of her skills. 

But it was that confidence, that determination that she was pushing to the surface. Showing exactly how calm she was. 

There was a pause and Holly could see Steve was weighing the plan up looking at the pros and cons, assessing all angles, turning all scenarios over until he finally nodded.

"Okay, here is what we are going to do. Bucky, there is a sniper rifle in the back of the SUV, pick a vantage point," Steve started, "I want them in line of sight at all times, but I also want you to be on the lookout for any sign that there is more than just the two of them."

"Affirmative," Bucky hummed in agreement.

Steve continued, "Holly, you need to focus on getting one of them out of the car." 

Holly nodded her head to show her understanding but refrained from commenting.

There wasn't a need. 

"Sam, you will need to detain whoever is in the car, and I will take out the one that is with Holly."

"Romanoff and Barton are leaving the Tower now, ETA twenty-five minutes, all being well," Hill added. 

"We will be switching to Comms now, on channel two," Steve answered, as he opened another compartment and pulled out a small box. 

He opened the box, passing it to Holly once he had removed his own Comms piece. 

Holly placed the small device in her ear, noise bursting to life as soon as she activated it. 

She wasn't sure how people didn't find them distracting. 

Pushing Steve's jacket aside, Holly took off her own coat, followed closely by the three-quarter length sleeved shirt revealing a black lacy cami-top that left her back almost bare. 

She undid her braid, ran her fingers through her hair, letting the waves fall naturally around her face before adding a touch up to her red lipstick. 

It was by no means a seductive look, but Holly knew she had the figure and the assets that if used correctly, could distract successfully regardless of what she was wearing. 

Besides sexy was all about confidence and Holly knew how to fake that by the bucket loads. 

Steve was watching her closely, his eyes narrowed and lingered a second or two longer over her scars on her arms. 

"What?"

"You're going to be cold," he coughed, his gaze darting around to look anywhere but at her. 

Holly flashed him a smile, "Best not leave me in the cold for too long then."

They waited until both Bucky and Sam gave the okay that they were in position. Steve carefully moved his seat back, allowing her the room to shuffle over to the driver's side, so she could look like the driver. 

It was a tangle of arms and legs, where his hands ended up on her waist, her knee dangerously close to somewhere delicate, and a hyperaware second as gazes locked, and the realisation that she was straddling Captain America dawned on her. 

Her breath hitched as it caught in her throat as her eyes zoned in on the shape of his lips; lips that Ginny would have definitely declared kissable. 

Holly pushed the thought from her mind, bringing her focus back onto the task in hand as she turned, until she was sitting on his lap, and opened the car door. 

"Try and get him on the passenger's side," he whispered to her.

Holly was only eighty per cent certain that the shiver that ran down the length of her spine was due to the cold air hitting her skin, and not the caress of Steve's breath on her neck.

Holly nodded, bringing her focus back onto the task at hand. 

Now was not the time to get distracted over silly things.

Carefully she slid out of the car as smoothly as possible, hiding the fact that there was someone else sitting in the driver's seat.

With the barest of flicks of her wand she non-verbally cast a spell on one of the wheels on the passenger side, an illusion settling over it showing that it was a flat tyre. 

Subtle, discreet. Just the way she liked it.

She had gotten good at being able to cast with minimal movement when she needed to, and when that didn't work, her wand, was almost undetectable by muggles.

As modern technology had advanced, the Wizarding World had had to adapt to keep one step ahead. 

Holly didn't close the door properly as she stepped away, allowing Steve to slip out unseen when she had whoever was in the car distracted. 

Holly turned towards the patrol car and strode forward, a confident swagger to her hips with every step she took, a slow smile spread across her lips. 

There was two of them, dressed the part that had Jarvis not already confirmed there were no patrol cars in the area, she would have fallen for it in a second. 

But then Hydra had spent the last seventy years hiding in plain sight, they knew how to blend into the world around them. 

The driver's window rolled down, and two sets of cold eyes turned to face.

"Evening, Officers," she said sweetly, "I wonder if you could help me."

They shared a look between each other, and Holly couldn't read a single thing that passed between them. 

It was bad guys 101, unreadable expressions.

"What is the problem, Ms?" the driver asked slowly, as he turned back to her, he had a square jaw and a scar that grazed his left cheek. 

They had decided to play the part, rather than shoot her in the head. Point to her. 

Holly let her smile widen a fraction, her eyes widening and she leant a little closer to the car, adding just enough teasing note to her voice that it came across as flirty.

She had a feeling that a complete damsel in distress routine wouldn't work on them, but flirting, that couldn't hurt. 

"My car has a flat, I've called roadside assistance, but that was over an hour ago," she paused, let her eyes roam over the two of them slowly, mentally noting the weapons they each had while giving the impression she was checking them both out.

Her smile got a little brighter. 

Tilting her head to the side, Holly continued, "They have yet to turn up."

"Flat tyre?" he asked. 

"I think so," she nodded. 

"You don't know how to change a tyre?"

They shared another look between them, Holly couldn't determine whether they were buying her story or not. 

She leant forward just right, letting them both get a flash of her cleavage and the hint of red under the black lacy top. 

Hard faced Hydra agents or not, they looked.

She met the drivers gaze with her own as he slowly trailed back up to her face. There was a glint in his eyes that she recognised as a spark of interest that shone when someone saw somebody they found physically attractive. 

Holly smiled coyly in response to that spark, looked down for a second, before looking back up to meet his eyes again, letting a hint of her own interest shine through. 

No matter how fake that interest was. 

"I've never had anyone teach me," she said with honey-laced words, nibbling at her bottom lip. "I guess I still have a lot to learn... with the right teacher."

He smiled slowly at her, the glint magnified. 

"You need the right teacher?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded, "So Officer, are you going to teach me how to change a tyre?"

He chuckled, "I think I can spare some time to teach you how to change a tyre."

"Gibbs!" his partner hissed.

"It will be fine, what the boss won't know can't hurt," Gibbs assured. 

Holly let her smile widen a fraction as she stepped back, "I really appreciate your help, Officer Gibbs."

"Protect and serve, Ms."

"Duties you take seriously?"

"Very."

"Where would we be without people like you," Holly said sweetly. 

Gibbs opened the car door and stepped out. He towered over her, but Holly didn't let her smile falter for a second. 

Tall, muscular, armed and dangerous.

He seemed to favour his left side more than his right, which Holly made a mental note of. 

"I have him in my sight," Bucky assured over the Comms. The three of them had been silent while she had laid on the charms that she had forgotten that they would have heard every word she said. 

Inwardly Holly cringed, she had laid it on a bit thick. 

Gibbs followed behind her as she led him to the front tyre on the passenger's side. She could feel his gaze lingering on her skin and she shivered, partly from cold and partly from the fact she really wanted to smack the guy in the face. 

He knelt down next to the tyre, it looked flat, but he would know it wasn't the moment he touched it. 

"This isn't flat!" he looked up at her, his eyes narrowing and cold fury lighting them up.

"Opps, my bad." Holly shrugged, "I really don't know cars."

Gibbs lunged at her. 

Holly kicked out as hard as she could. 

The angle was awkward, and while she made contact with him, he managed to push forward, grabbing her leg and pulling her down hard. 

Holly stumbled into him. 

She itched for her wand in her hand, pushed the need aside and opted instead for her a knee to his nose as she crashed into him. 

"Bitch," his hissed at her as he let go of her leg. 

Holly scrambled back, reaching for a knife sheathed at her back. 

She needn't have bothered, Steve was there in a blink of an eye, arm wrapped around Gibbs' neck locking him into a chokehold until his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went down. 

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, concern lacing his words as he straightened himself, Gibbs unconscious at his feet. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Holly confirmed, putting her knife back into its sheath.

A glance towards the car showed that Sam had the passenger subdued. 

"Do you recognise them?"

Steve nodded his head, "The passenger in the car is, West, he was STRIKE I worked with him a few times at the Triskelion."

Steve looked down at Gibbs, "Him, not so much."

"Gibbs, that's what West called him," Holly supplied. 

"Jarvis will run the name through the system, along with a facial scan, see if anything comes up."

"Are we waiting for the others?" Holly asked, glancing around the street, so far there little confrontation had gone unnoticed, or at least it seemed that way. 

"Natasha and Clint will be here in a few minutes. They can take them back to the Tower, and one of us will drive the patrol car," Steve confirmed. 

They didn't have to wait long for them. 

Holly was leaning against the SUV when they pulled up; her shirt and jacket thankfully back on and zipped up high, while she watched over the 'dead to the world' form of Gibbs. 

His hands were zip tied, and she had stripped him of all his weapons and laid them on the back seat of the SUV. Steve was currently helping Sam move the passenger out of the patrol car, as Bucky made his way across the street towards her. 

Sniper rifle secured to his back. 

He didn't ask her if she was okay as he drew level and she was grateful for that. His eyes scanned her from head to toe with assessing scrutiny she had no doubt that if the slightest thing had been out of place, he would have noticed. 

Instead, he silently moved to the side of her, leant back against the vehicle himself and scanned the street.

"You don't know how to change a flat?" he asked his tone light and teasing as he broke the silence. 

"Don't hold it against me, but my knowledge of cars consists of them getting me from A to B and ensuring that they have petrol..._gas_ in them," she answered. 

His lips twitched slightly upwards. 

Holly turned to look at him, he was looking at her. There was a mischievous light in his eyes. 

A playful glint, a dangerous glint. 

"I guess you need the right teacher," he added. 

The response came easy to her, the words out of her mouth before her brain could catch up. Because _she_ knew he was teasing her and Holly was never one to back down. 

She didn't know how to back down. 

"Are you the right teacher?"

Their gazes locked and something shifted between them, his eyes drew her in until she was tethering on the edge, one false move and she would fall. 

At that moment, Holly wasn't convinced that falling would be a bad thing. 

Her pace quickened.

She licked her lips and tried to breathe. 

The bond vibrated between them.

"That is something you would need to find out for yourself," he dared. 

"And if I wanted to find out for myself?"

His eyes darkened, and Holly could have sworn she saw something flash in them though she wasn't certain she could distinguish one thought over the other. 

_Desire? Want? Need?_

Her breath hitched, catching at the back of her throat. 

"Careful Hols," he breathed, holding her gaze for a moment longer, "You need to remember how to breathe."

He said it low, soft and a shiver ran up the length of her spine. 

He shifted his gaze to look up at the approaching footsteps. 

Holly remembered to breathe. 

The zingy energy that had hung heavily in the air pressing down against her with intensity lifted and common sense caught up with her. 

Because she wasn't here for that complication, even if she could admit to herself that Bucky was attractive and there was a spark there. 

It was a road she dared not travel, no matter how tempting it may be, because nothing about it would be pure desire, the marks, the bonds complicated everything. 

Holly looked up as Steve approached, a firm reminder just how complicated that road would be if she was willing to travel down it. 

Pushing the thoughts behind her icy shields and closing the lid on the possibility of giving in to her desire, she straightened, pushing away from the SUV. 

"Natasha and Clint are going to take them back to the Tower. I need you to drive the patrol car back to the Tower," Steve said, looking at Bucky, there was a grim determination in his face. 

He turned to look at her. 

"I'm going to take you back to your apartment for you to get what you need for the week, and then we will meet you at the Tower."

Bucky glanced between the two of them, before moving toward the patrol car. Steve lifted Gibbs up and carried him towards the vehicle Romanoff and Barton were currently shoving the second guy into the back off. 

Holly opened the passenger door and slipped inside the SUV, clean up hadn't taken long, and as she waited for Steve to get into the driver's side, she watched the others drive off. 

"Are the others taking over the watch?" she asked once Steve slid into the driver's seat.

"Yes, they are already on their way. We have had to move some people about to cover Natasha and Clint's absence, but both locations will have people covering them," he said as he turned the key. 

Holly fell silent as the engine thrummed to life. 

Neither of them said a word, and if Steve had noticed the exchange that passed between her and Bucky, he chose not to comment. 

It had been a lapse of judgement on her part. 

One she couldn't afford again. 

Holly turned to look out the window as the streets changed, she had the feeling it was going to be a long night.

* * *

Steve gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove through the streets of the city to his destination, bright lights engulfing the city in what looked to be a glowing cage for all to see. 

He couldn't remember it being quite so bad back in the 40s, and it had taken some getting used to when he had first woken from the ice. His senses going into overload from the sheer volume of noise, lights and the fact that New York had grown in so many ways.

Even now he didn't like driving at night in a car, much preferred the freedom that his bike offered him, but a bike wouldn't have been practical for a nine-hour stakeout, especially when he wasn't alone for that stakeout. 

Not that the stakeout had gone according to plan. 

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Holly sitting next to him, her head turned slightly to watch the world pass them by, his jacket still wrapped around her legs and from the look of it, he noticed she had tucked her feet up under her as well. 

He glanced at the footrest; her boots lay on the floor.

It had been Holly's suggested idea that had allowed them to capture the Hydra Agents. 

A plan he would have expected from Natasha and had been surprised when Holly had suggested it. Had been even more surprised at how easily Holly had slipped into the proposed role, how easily the right words had left her lips.

He was used to working with people who used subterfuge as one of their chosen weapons, he had worked alongside spies and still did to a degree. Natasha lived and breathed that world, a world of espionage and subterfuge. 

And it was a weapon Holly appeared to have in her arsenal. 

Not as refined as Natasha, not as sharp, but still sharp enough to cut and deadly enough to lead the unwary to their doom. 

Steve found himself thinking once again about how little they knew about Holly Potter. 

It was an uncomfortable thought, but Steve wasn't one of the unwary, and as much as he hated the world of espionage he had learned enough from working for SHIELD to pick up on the signs that someone was hiding. 

Hell, Natasha hid more of herself that he wasn't sure he would ever be able to unravel the layers that made up the spy, but he trusted her. 

He more than trusted her. 

Steve had no idea if he could or even should trust Holly. 

But he knew without question she was hiding a lot about herself. 

A part of him knew he couldn't fault her for that just as much as a part of him warred with the possibility she was still a threat to them. 

Steve didn't know what to think about Holly. 

He had learnt little bits of information she had clearly deemed safe to share in the game they had played, but he was still no closer to learning any truth that was beyond the surface to who she was. 

And he wasn't sure whether he should dare to let himself get close enough to find out more, or allow her close enough to find things out about him that she could use against him, should she be the enemy. 

Yet something tugged at his core and niggled at his mind. 

She may be a danger, but it was also clear she needed help. 

Both thoughts warred inside him, a voice saying he needed to be cautious and another saying he needed to do what he could to help. 

Finding no absolution, Steve pushed the thoughts aside and turned his attention back onto the road. 

The sooner they got to Holly's apartment, the sooner he would be able to get back to the Tower and oversee the interrogation. Not that he would be leading, but Steve needed to be there. 

Needed to hear what West and Gibbs said. 

"It's the next right," Holly said suddenly, breaking the silence. 

He glanced at her.

"My apartment, it's the next right."

He frowned. 

"How much do you know about Hell's Kitchen?"

"That it's reasonably priced at the moment for large apartments. The neighbourhood got hit pretty badly in the Invasion from what my landlord said."

"Crime has spiked in the last two years as well," he noted, as they passed apartment buildings that looked to be half-ruined and falling apart. 

He wasn't sure why it bothered him, the idea of her living here, but it did.

"Nowhere's perfect." She shrugged. "Though we do have our own vigilante."

His head snapped to hers, "Excuse me?"

"Some guy in a hooded mask seems to be running rings around the criminal gangs around here. Surprised you haven't heard of him since I'm pretty sure the cops here are blaming you guys for him."

He blinked in surprise, "Blaming us?" 

"Well, not in so many words, but it's in the undertone, reading between the lines. Since the invasion and people put on costumes other crazies are coming out of the woodwork thinking they are something special," Holly answered. 

Steve frowned, "Is it our fault?"

"Of course, it isn't. Not saying that you don't have people being inspired by you guys, wanting to be a hero, which isn't a bad thing," Holly replied, "But putting yourself out there makes you a target for every bad thing that goes wrong. A scapegoat. The world expects you to be perfect, they don't realise that perfect is an illusion."

"Is he a danger to anyone, the vigilante?" he asked, as he pulled the car to a stop. 

"Only if you are a criminal, and even then from what I can see and from what is being reported, it doesn't appear to be the common criminals he's going after. Its organised crime he seems to be targeting," Holly replied as she busied herself with slipping her boots back on. "I tell you what, you looking at the buyers for the Chitauri weapons Hell's Kitchen is full of potential buyers."

"Why exactly do you live here?"

Holly smiled at him, "Dirt cheap."

"How exactly do you know this?" His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. 

"Know thy enemy. It pays to keep an ear to the ground, work out when a shit-storm is about to hit. Besides, it never hurts to have information."

"Unless you come to the attention of the wrong people by getting that information." He gave her a pointed look. 

"I'm a big girl. You can come up if you want, I won't be long if you don't want to," she said as she opened the car door and slipped out.

Steve watched her for a second before he unbuckled his seatbelt and slipped out of the driver's side. His eyes sweeping the area for any potential threats, frowning as he spotted a group gathered around the steps to the front entrance of the building Holly was walking towards. 

They watched her with hungry eyes, and from where he was standing, he could see that at least three of them were armed. 

Steve locked the car and moved around to follow her. She may have stated she wasn't going to be long, but he wasn't going to let her struggle with her bags if he could help. 

"Yo, Your Majesty, where you been?" one of the guys greeted. Steve fixed his gaze onto him, as he fell in behind Holly. He was tall, skinny, though Steve supposed that could be down to the fact he was wearing loose baggy clothes that seemed to be in fashion with some people. He had multi-coloured hair and dark brown eyes.

He was aware that the others in the group straightened slightly as they eyed him up. He tensed, ready and waiting. 

"All over, Jared, all over. How's your mother?" Holly replied, pausing in her step. 

"Doin' better, that tonic you gave her worked a treat, cleared up her chest infection better anythin' we've tried before."

"Happy to help. Staying out of trouble?" Steve noted the piercing look she threw at Jared.

"You know me, Your Majesty, I'm always stayin' out of trouble," Jared said, shifting on his feet. 

"Uh-huh," Holly hummed, "Let me know if your mother's chest infection comes back, and _stay_ out of trouble; otherwise I will tell your mother the next time I have to come and bail you out."

"Aww, that's playin' dirty."

"I always play dirty Jared," Holly sniped before she continued up the steps to the front door. 

"Hey, aren't you, Captain America?" Jared asked, turning his brown eyes onto him. 

Steve hesitated.

Holly stepped down and grabbed hold of his hand, which caused Steve to blink in surprise, as a zing zapped between them the moment they touched. 

"I will keep your secret Jared, you stay quiet about this. And I expect that from the rest of you."

"Sure, Your Majesty, can we have an autograph though, just wanna say I met Captain America."

"Jared," Holly warned, before looking up at him, her green eyes filled with more understanding than he expected to see, along with a clear message saying he didn't have to if he didn't want to.

Steve always felt...unworthy of the attention he received from the general public and was often surprised when people recognised him. It left Steve uncertain about how to act. He didn't see himself as a hero; he just did the right thing, because it wasn't in his nature to walk away from a fight when he could do something about it. 

"Um, sure."

Holly let go of his hand and waited while Jared produced a pen from somewhere and got him to sign the arm of his jacket. 

"Sorry," Holly said softly after he was able to untangle himself from Jared and the others, the entrance door shutting quietly behind them.

"It's okay. I never get used it, but they actually asked," Steve replied.

"One of the prices of being a hero. You never really belong to yourself anymore."

Steve locked gazes with her, the understanding was there again clear to see, and he couldn't help but wonder what had made her understand something that most people didn't. 

The others understood. 

Tony had understood the longest, knew the feeling longer than any of them. And while he gave the impression of enjoying it, Steve could see the times when it strained even him. 

It had been so strange to wake up in this decade to find decades of hero-worship dedicated to him. Strengthened by his role in stopping the Invasion. Everyone had an idea of who he was, without actually really knowing him. 

And yet Holly seemed to understand that completely. Understand that it made him uncomfortable and had tried to soften the blow. 

"So Jared?"

"He and his mother are my neighbours. He is a good kid, but not the best at making life decisions at the moment."

"Trouble?"

Holly grimaced, "In a manner. His mother is ill, and hospital bills aren't cheap, nor are the medications she needs. He crossed the wrong people trying to earn some easy cash and it landed him in hot water."

"How bad?" He asked as they walked up the stairs.

"A baseball bat to the knees. I intervened, and I dealt with the boss, before getting Jared connected to the foundation I used to work for. They are helping the best they can with the situation, giving him a chance if he is willing to take it."

"Are you in danger?"

"No. I came to an understanding with the people that he pissed off. They don't touch Jared. I didn't tell his mother, because I didn't want to cause more stress to her, and I try and keep an eye out for him when I can."

"His friends were armed."

"Another issue altogether, and something I am powerless to do anything about."

"There is only so much you can do." He knew that feeling of powerlessness. Trying to fix a situation and everything stacked against you. 

Holly glanced back at him, "Exactly even if it is frustrating. They aren't with any of the gangs from what I can tell. They tend to just stick with each other," Holly answered, "But there is still that dreaded fear _they_ are going to do something stupid one day." 

Steve looked at her, as they climbed the next flight of stairs before she paused between three doors and fished for her keys in her back pocket.

Holly cared about people. 

She took the time to see people without judging them at first glance. Some people would have written Jared off from the get-go, just by the what he wore, how he spoke, what he looked like, and where he lived. 

Holly had offered aid to Jared when he was being threatened without hesitating, and had not only intervened during the actual attack but had taken it further to deal with the threat head-on. 

And from the brief interaction he had witnessed with Jared, he could see that the teenage boy looked up to her with love-sick eyes, something he wasn't sure Holly was even aware of. His friends may have eyed her up in a way teenage boys could do, but Jared clearly had a crush on her. 

Holly turned the keys in the lock in the door closest to the stairs and pushed the door open with her side. It resisted a little before finally shifting and Holly was able to push it open.

It wasn't the most secure door in the world. 

Steve couldn't help but wonder whether she would resist accepting help in ensuring her apartment was a little more secure. 

Holly stepped inside, switching a light on and gave him room to walk through past her, before pushing the door closed behind them. 

"I won't be long, just grabbing enough for a week, right?"

"Just till the mission is over. Easier to work shifts out," he answered, following her into the main room, a second light flickering to life. 

"Would you like a drink?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

Holly gave him a nod before moving out of the main room down a small hallway to what he only presumed led to her bedroom. 

Steve glanced around, turning slightly as his eyes swept over Holly's apartment. It was a large open plan room. The kitchen was to the right, running along the wall that divided the kitchen from the hallway, and followed around in an almost rectangle shape. The kitchen sink positioned under a window. 

He noted three grey breakfast bar stools tucked under one of the worktops. The kitchen looked to be a relatively recent addition, and a little out of place for what he assumed one would find in the building that housed it. Jars, containers and various small pots seemed to gather in clusters at various locations on the worktops, but it was clean and tidy. 

A dining room table overlooked two more windows, separating the kitchen and the living space. 

A sideboard ran along a wall, and two sofas created an L shape around a coffee table over the far side, a TV hanging on the wall. 

Overall it was clean, light, spacious and as neutral as one could get.

It also told him nothing about her. 

The place looked barely lived in, gave no insight to her personality, and was void of anything remotely personal. There were no photos, no wall art and no trinkets. 

Except for one little corner. 

Steve moved towards the fireplace. A large black armchair that gave him the impression that it would be the comfiest chair in the world was in front of it, a think dark maroon woollen throw covered one arm. Leaning against the wall within touching distance of the armchair was a bookshelf, full of books. 

In Steve's opinion, you could tell a lot about a person from what books they read. As he took a step closer and scanned the titles on the shelves, he could see that Holly had a collective taste that crossed all genres.

Some he recognised, others he didn't.

Steve reached for a book at random and pulled it off the shelf. 

**The Moon is a Harsh Mistress - Robert A Heinkin.**

Steve frowned. 

"Have you read it?"

Steve spun on his feet, guilt creeping along the length of his spine, like the time his mother caught him with his hand in the cookie jar when he was only supposed to have one because money was tight and they were a treat. 

"Sorry."

"You don't have to apologise."

"I haven't read it," he made a move to put it back on the shelf. 

"You should read it. It's a good book. An engaging story that makes you feel an array of emotions. It's also one that makes you think, makes you look at the world and ask questions."

He hesitated, before pulling the book to him once again. 

"Thank you," he met her gaze and not for the first time he felt as though Holly was peeling back the layers inch by inch. 

"It's a nice place you have."

"It's a place to rest my head." She shrugged.

"Is that everything?" He asked with a nod.

Holly gave him a slight smile, "Yep. Apart from the books, my whole life can fit into this bag."

Steve frowned as he looked up from the bag and met her gaze again. The comment and the lack of personal belongings indicated that Holly was more than used to leaving things behind.

"You don't have much?"

"I've never needed much. Besides, I've never settled anywhere long enough in the last few years for personal belongings to be a problem."

"That sounds lonely."

A shrug.

"I am used to being alone."

"What about setting up roots? Having a home?"

Holly looked at him green eyes darkening slightly, "I have a home. It's just not here, after all, they say home is where the heart is, and New York doesn't have my heart."

Steve couldn't stop himself from flinching with that particular statement. 

He studied her, but Holly's face was blank, not a single thought or feeling crossing her features, and for the first time, Steve couldn't feel anything battering against his shields. 

Emptiness. 

He shifted uncomfortably. He knew Holly hadn't meant to be hurtful, she had just said it, said it and meant it, and he shouldn't feel anything by it. 

And yet he did.

"Do you ever plan on going back home?"

She smiled; it was a sad smile, one that Steve recognised as resignation, her eyes dulling in a way that he hadn't seen before. 

But she didn't answer, and Steve guessed that was an answer in itself, he just wasn't sure he could decipher what the answer was. 

"Let me take that off you."

Holly gave him another look, one he couldn't decipher. 

"My mother raised me to carry a lady's bag."

"Who am I to argue with your mother," Holly answered, giving him a side look as she passed her bag over. 

It hardly weighed anything.

And Steve couldn't help but feel sad about that.

Holly had said she could fit her whole life into that bag and it hardly weighed anything. 

He followed her out of the apartment and waited while she locked up before descending the stairs and out of the building towards the car. 

Jared and his friends had vanished from the steps, and nobody else was around to notice them leaving, but that didn't stop him from glancing around to double check as he put Holly's bag on the back seat. 

Satisfied, Steve slipped into the driver's seat, it shouldn't take them long to reach the Tower, and once there he would be able to observe the interrogation. 

And hopefully glean more information about Hydra's plans. 

It didn't take them long to reach the tower.

Hill met them at the elevator doors on the levels dedicated to them.

"Romanoff is waiting for you before she starts. I have already contacted Detective Sergeant Lowe and he is sending some of his people over now," Hill greeted them crisply.

Steve nodded, "I will be right down, I just need to show Holly to her room."

"I can do that, Barnes is in the observing room, and it would be best if you were there," Hill added. 

Steve caught the strain in her tone, the concern and the sense of urgency that told him more than anything else. 

Bucky was close to losing control. 

He nodded.

Holly was already reaching for her bag before he could even say anything, clearly hearing the same urgency in Hill's voice as he was. 

Their eyes met briefly, and understanding flashed in Holly's eyes before she gave a small nod of her own. 

He let her take her bag off him, stepping back into the elevator and pressing the appropriate floors button. 

Steve reached for the bond he shared with Bucky, could feel the raging waves of emotions tossing and crashing together. 

He sent a pulse of reassurance through the bond, but he had no doubt that amongst the waves, it would be lost. 

_I'm coming Buck, I'm coming._

* * *

His rage howled. 

Ice filled his veins. 

Icy swirling darkness grew with every breath he took. 

Bucky didn't move. 

He dared not. 

His eyes firmly fixed on the man sitting behind the two-way mirror. 

Rage swirled and thrashed and slashed through him, desperately seeking a way to escape, to unleash itself with a ferocity that none would be able to withstand. 

So Bucky stayed perfectly still, gritted his teeth in determination and clawed onto what control he could muster as the Soldier rampaged through him. 

Icy knives burrowed deeper with every breath he took. 

He waited. 

And waited. 

Muscles tight.

Jaw clenched. 

Not even Steve's presence offered comfort. 

The Soldier snarled. 

Comfort was not something he wanted. 

He wanted to tear and shred and kill the man he was now observing. 

West. 

Bucky recognised him. 

Knew him. 

The Soldier did too, but the memories were hazy. 

He had been Strike, not a handler but someone who had stood guard, who had chauffeured him to drop off points and collected him. 

"You recognise him."

It wasn't a question; Steve had made those three words into a statement that didn't require him to voice the answer. 

Bucky voiced one anyway. 

"I do."

"Was he..."

He threw Steve a look, stopping that particular question in its tracks. 

"He was a driver, not a handler," he said through gritted teeth. 

Both of them fell silent, content in watching Natasha take the front in the interrogation. 

This was the first time he had come face to face with someone connected to Hydra since the battle at the Triskelion. Since his memories had resurfaced and he had escaped his chains. 

Nine months wasn't a long enough time to be free of them. 

Everything was stirring, a twisted ball Bucky didn't dare try to untangle tightening around him. 

He swallowed slowly. 

The Soldier raged.

_Kill._

**_No._ **

Bucky pushed back against that other presence. He dared not lose control. 

He couldn't afford to lose control, yet the Solider was pushing back harder than he had for a while.

_KILL!_

The Soldier roared. 

His control slipped.

He moved before he was even aware he was moving. 

His body lunging forward, fist swinging.

Steve reached him just as his metal fist hit the two-way mirror. 

The cracking crunch of glass splintering filtered the air. 

He zeroed in with narrowed eyes as Natasha, swiftly moved to her feet and reached for West. The man was ushered out of the room before the glass had entirely shattered in a spray of shards.

He was panting. 

"Stand down Bucky," Steve growled at him. 

He snarled. 

Spun swinging. 

Steve dodged his flying fist. 

Bucky couldn't see. 

Not anymore. 

Red. 

Everything went red. 

He should have been an inferno, but it was a cold rage. 

A calculating rage that was searching desperately for his target to destroy. 

Hands grabbed him, wrestled with him for control.

He struck out, kicked, and punched. 

He dodged and slammed. 

He would kill him first. He _had_ to kill him first.

He knew what would follow if he failed. 

He could smell the blood; he had drawn blood, his or Steve's he couldn't tell. 

It didn't matter. 

Nothing mattered. 

Steve was stopping him from reaching his goal, and that was unacceptable. 

"Bucky, I need you to push it down. I _need_ you to push him back," Steve called. 

He snarled in response. 

But the words reverberated through him like a bells ring. 

He wasn't the Soldier. 

He wasn't a weapon. 

He was Bucky. 

_Bucky._

It was a whispered word, carrying the scent that belonged to another. 

A scent that he recognised. 

Warmth rolled across him, engulfing him, comforting pulsing beat of a heartbeat that thrummed through the bonds. 

A silvery glow and an image flashed through his mind. 

An image he didn't understand couldn't possibly comprehend but looked too much like a stag. 

_Holly._

Bucky didn't know why, didn't know how he made that leap, that jump for a connection but he _knew_ it was Holly. 

And then another. 

Another heartbeat that was as familiar as his own heartbeat was. 

_Steve. _

Steve and Holly. 

Bucky focused on the bonds, on the heartbeats, on his own steadying to match _their_ rhythm. 

They couldn't fight this battle for him, but they could offer support, they could offer strength. 

Even Holly who wasn't in the room, Holly, who had never faced the Soldier but was still offering her support, had reached out to him without hesitating.

Bucky breathed. 

Bit down and wrestled with that _other_ presence. 

There was a roar of fury from within. 

Bucky didn't flinch.

He pushed, and pushed and pushed, until the Solider slipped back under the surface, his rage bleeding away until its embers died and all that remained was the warmth shared by Steve and Holly. 

Bucky let out a breath.

The tension in his muscles washed away, and he collapsed to his knees, his limbs going limp. 

He was shaking. 

Beads of sweat lined his forehead. 

He felt clammy and a little sick, and even though the warmth was offering comfort, his insides were turbulent.

He was aware of Steve kneeling down next to him, aware of a hand on his shoulder, another touching his chin and lifting it up. His eyes meeting Steve's. 

"You haven't had an episode like this for a while."

"No," he croaked. 

He could see an array of thoughts crossing Steve's eyes, but Steve didn't voice them. 

Instead, he opened his shields a little and the red thread running between them thickened and zinged. 

Bucky let his shields drop, and took what Steve offered. 

He knew he was selfish. That he usually closed himself off to Steve because he wasn't sure he could walk down that road again with him, but right now Bucky needed what Steve was offering. 

Offering without asking for anything in return.

It wasn't fair, but Bucky desperately needed the help. 

Bucky let himself rest, let himself relax, let himself draw a little strength from Steve. Not enough to weaken Steve, but enough that he didn't feel so exhausted from the struggle with the Soldier. 

"I needed to kill him," he whispered. 

"I know," Steve answered his gaze never wavering from him, "It's not been that bad before."

Bucky snorted, "I've not crossed paths with someone from Hydra since DC. I feel that for every step forward I take, I am forced back three more."

"You are too hard on yourself. You are doing better than you think you are, but it will take time Bucky."

"I know," he said, hesitating, "What if it happens again, the night of the shipment. Taking me out on the field, I am a liability, Stevie."

"You are stronger than you think you are Bucky, but I won't force you into the fight if you don't want to."

Steve's lips pressed together tightly, a determined tilt to his head that told Bucky that he meant that last statement...and god help anyone who tried to get him to change his mind. Bucky had seen that tilt more times than he cared to count. 

"It doesn't matter what I want, what I am will always drag me back into a fight sooner or later. It will always end in a fight," Bucky said softly, numbness settling over him. 

"Go and get some rest Buck, you don't need to watch the rest of the interrogation." 

Bucky heeded Steve's words, the borrowed strength didn't give him enough energy to waste arguing. He was tired, and it was days since he had last slept. 

He pushed himself to his feet, grateful that he didn't stagger. 

He had shown enough weakness as it was, showing more wasn't acceptable. 

He turned on his heel to leave the room, aware that Natasha and Sam were hovering in the corridor. 

Both of them acknowledged him, but neither of them said anything. 

Bucky couldn't stop the twinge of guilt that rippled through him at their disgruntled appearance; Sam sported a cut lip, a shredded top and Natasha looked ruffled. 

He kept his head down as he walked past them, heat rising to his face, and a thickness caught his throat as shame crept through him. 

He didn't understand why Steve trusted him. 

It was a mistake, and one Bucky hoped, no prayed, wouldn't cost him everything. 

His feet moved him forward, pushing him through the tower until he found his room on autopilot. He didn't interact with anyone else, and he was grateful for that. 

He needed rest, he needed sleep. 

He needed so many things, things Bucky couldn't name, but the warmth didn't leave him. 

Steve and Holly never left him, never closed the bonds, and kept him engulfed in their strength. 

And it was strength. 

Holly was strong just as Steve was, but he could see that it was a different kind of strength. 

As he closed his eyes, Bucky saw a stag with green eyes curl around him, before sleep took him. 

* * *

A fire burned in the middle of the clearing, its flickering light fell over a crowd of silent Death Eaters. 

Her heart was throwing itself against her chest. She was ready, ready to die...to save them all. 

"I thought she would come," Voldemort said, his voice pressing against her skin, red eyes looking right at her, but not seeing her, "I expected her to come. It seems that I was mistaken."

"You weren't," the words left her lips before she could think about stopping them.

But then it had already happened. 

Holly couldn't change it, no matter how much she wished to turn back, to not look...to not see.

Because she knew what happened next. 

She knew what followed. 

Her stomach churned.

Her pulse raced.

"Is it that time again?" Voldemort asked his lips twisted in a smile, that wasn't really a smile. 

Holly frowned, no, that wasn't right, that's not what happened. 

Except when it did. 

"Time?" 

"Come, come, Holly, how many times have we done this now? A hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand? We both know how this ends."

"How does it end?" She asked.

"I kill you...I remake you...I set you on the path."

"No...That's not," Holly started.

Voldemort looked at her, red eyes glistening with amusement. 

"I can almost taste it...how close you are."

"You're dead. I killed you..." Holly answered, with a shake of her head. 

"You can't kill me. I am forever with you...marked against your skin."

No, no, this wasn't right, this isn't how it happened. 

"Shall we begin?"

Holly didn't have a chance to reply, didn't have a chance - she saw his mouth move and a flash of green light and then she was falling...falling, and the darkness consumed her.

...

...

She couldn't move. 

Straps holding her down. 

Binding her arms, her legs, and her body. 

"No, no...no...not happening, no - this isn't real, this isn't real!"

A face hovered above her, blurry, - she could see a white coat, could see a glint of metal in his hands.

Pain.

Pain.

Her flesh sliced open and pulled back. 

"This isn't real," Holly whimpered, fear suffocating her. 

A knife cut across her_..._

...Holly bolted up.

The Elder wand in her hand, pointing at nothing as images sped through her mind. 

Her heart raced. 

Her chest tightened.

Panting she took big gasps of air, forcing her lungs to expand. She felt like she had just gone ten rounds with a giant. 

Her entire body was shaking, though she noted her wand wasn't. Her wand was perfectly still.

A nightmare. Just a nightmare. 

Except it wasn't, and Holly knew that memories twisted and changed as she relived them over and over...yet they never stayed the same, always changing, always out of sync. 

How was it that reliving things always seemed worse than when you actually lived through it?

Her eyes swept over her surroundings, the unfamiliarity of where she was leaving her confused as she breathed through the lingering taint of her nightmare. 

Avengers Tower. 

Guest Room. 

Holly fumbled with her wand as she tucked it back into the wand-holster out of sight. Hill had assured her that Jarvis didn't have cameras in the guest room, but she couldn't risk letting her guard down for a second. 

She glanced at the clock to the side of her. 

_04:35._

She wasn't going to be able to sleep now. 

She never could after seeing Voldemort again. 

_Fuck_, Voldemort.

He was dead and buried. _He_ couldn't hurt her. 

Except for the memories, for the scars, the - brand on her skin. 

_His_ mark. 

Forever corrupted, and no matter how many times she had tried to boil the skin off her bones, she hadn't been able to wash away _his hands, his mark, his taint._

And then Hydra -

Holly pushed the thought away. 

She couldn't think about that. 

She didn't have the strength.

Yet it played on her mind because hours ago she had faced Hydra Agents. 

Not the faces that plagued her, but Hydra Agents none the less and it had opened a door up inside her that she couldn't now shut. 

And not just her if the turbulent waves that had rippled through the bonds were anything to go by. 

Bucky's rage had slammed into her as if it were her own. 

It had threatened to swallow her whole. 

Holly had done what she could to help. 

Directing her magic in the only way she knew how to help protect in the most positive way possible. 

She wasn't sure it would work but was surprised to find sending a Patronus Charm through the bonds she shared with Bucky rather than externally to protect, was easy.

And it had worked. 

At least she thought it had. 

Holly wasn't sure and she didn't know anybody she could ask. 

But she would take it as a win this once, and if it helped Bucky, then it was a success in her eyes. 

She sighed wearily. 

Holly shoved the covers off her and got up. Her toes curling as they touched the cold floor.

Her feet softly padded on the floor as she made her way to the chair she had dumped her bag on only a couple of hours before and pulled out a jumper to pull over her top. 

The warming charms Mrs Weasley had woven in with the wool as she knitted it, activating the moment it touched her bare skin. Holly smiled sadly as she burrowed her nose into it, reminding her of the Burrow and simpler days, where while there had been blood, violence and death, there had also been warm hugs, smiles and laughter.

Holly dug deeper into her bag, pulling out a small wooden box. She dared not use any more magic than she absolutely had to, but she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep again. 

Running her thumb over the front of the box, Holly felt the familiar prick that drew blood and the box opened. Uncomplicated and straightforward blood magic that ensured only she would be able to open it. 

Holly lifted the lid. 

It carried her emergency supply of potions, only the basics that every Auror was required to carry with them, and it was a habit she had continued doing even now. 

Looking at the empty slots, Holly made a mental note to put aside a day for brewing potions when she was back in her apartment. With a shake of her head, she picked up the vial labelled _'Invigoration Draught'_, popped the cork and took three sips. 

It wasn't a long term solution, and by the time it had run through her system, she would crash hard, but three sips would get her through the day with the energy she would need. If not a little more than she would have had she received a full night's sleep. 

So long as she slept at the end of its course, she would be fine. She glanced at the Dreamless Sleep Potion bottle as she slid the vial back into its place, and if she took that potion when it was time for her to sleep again then all the better.

At least until she was back in the safety of her own apartment behind her wards. 

It was years since she had slept without wards.

The Avengers Tower was safe, but against magical threats it was vulnerable and defenceless. 

It made her skin crawl and itch. 

Holly sighed.

If she was in her apartment, she would have looked over the files she had, or baked. But she wasn't at her apartment and didn't want to intrude any more than she was already doing. 

And while she had the files with her, tucked safely away in the trunk she had shrunken to fit into her bag, she didn't want to risk using more magic to get them. 

She had dared not leave anything magical at the apartment when she was going to be absent for some time. 

It left her with one option. 

Holly slipped on her boots, grabbed her pad and left her room. 

She wasn't going to go back to sleep; she may as well make herself useful and monitor the traffic camera's with Jarvis while she wrote her report for Hill.

It didn't take her long to reach the main operations floor, where she nodded in greeting to the two-night staff as she made her way towards the kitchen. Holly made herself a cup of tea before plonking herself down on one of the chairs in front of computer screens in the room she had worked in the day before.

She could write her report while keeping Jarvis company and watch over the security feed. 

"Hey Jarvis, fancy some company?" She asked, switching on her Pad. She slid off her boots, tucked her knees up to her chest, so her jumper adjusted in length to cover her feet. 

To the untrained eye, it would look as though she was merely stretching her jumper. 

"Your company is appreciated, Ms Potter, but not necessary," Jarvis replied. 

"Holly, Jarvis, you can call me Holly, and I know it's not necessary, but I couldn't sleep and thought I would make myself useful."

Jarvis hesitated a moment, "Of course...Holly."

The A.I pulled up the traffic cameras without her asking onto the screens in front of her.

"Thanks, Jarvis."

Holly took a sip of her tea as she settled herself down, watching the screens in front of her half-heartedly as she started to type out her report. 

She wasn't sure why Hill wanted a written report, but the woman had asked, and Holly wasn't going to argue with the request. Not when she still needed this job. 

Besides she needed something to occupy her.

"Holly?"

Holly glanced up at the sound of her name, her eyes darting to the door where Bucky stood, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest.

A quick glance told her he was exhausted. 

His face looked drawn and pale. 

"Uh, hi," Holly said softly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would make myself useful."

Her tongue wetted her bottom lip as she glanced at him, he had managed to sneak up on her again, not even the bonds alerting her to his presence, but the moment her mind turned to them, she could feel him.

A tiny flame burning away inside of her chest, glowing and pulsing to the rhythm of her heartbeat, as concern washed through her and a heavy darkness she couldn't begin to unravel. 

"You didn't disturb me. I don't sleep much but when I do it isn't pleasant. I thought I felt -" he trailed off, looking at her intently as his brow drew tightly into a frown. "Are you okay?"

Holly licked her lips, her thumb running up and down her mug. How could she possibly answer that?

She could see the concern in his expression, the tightness in his eyes as he watched her closely, and the downturn of his lips pressed together. 

Guilt gnawed at her, her nightmare hadn't just disturbed her, but it had bothered Bucky as well. She could see the tiredness on his face; despite the fact he tried to hide it.

He needed to rest, to sleep but maybe her nightmares hadn't all been hers. 

And wasn't that a disturbing thought. 

"Are you?" she countered. 

Holly caught the grimace that crossed Bucky's face before he hid it quickly. 

"The shields are weaker at night, aren't they?" Holly asked. She knew the answer, though; she had been more vulnerable to Riddle when she had slept. 

Bucky didn't answer and that in itself was all the answer she needed. 

"Sorry."

"You don't have to apologise, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Some nights are worse than others."

Bucky moved to the empty seat next to her and sat down. 

Neither of them said anything, content to sit in silence and Holly could admit she found it oddly comforting. 

Not being alone after a nightmare.

She waited a few moments, to make sure that Bucky didn't want to talk, and if he did, he wasn't willing to make a move yet, before she continued to write the report. 

Holly was aware of him, just as she was aware of the soft hum of the screens around her, but she didn't stare at him. 

The last thing she wanted to do was making him uncomfortable.

"It is the quiet," Bucky said softly as he turned to look at her. The drawn look on his face was one of anguish and it made her heart clench tightly because she understood what he was saying and what he wasn't.

"It makes the memories louder," Holly confirmed, "Nothing left to distract you, so all you can do is replay, over and over again."

His lips twitched slightly. 

"I see their faces. All of them, every time I shut my eyes."

"So you stay awake, for as long as you can."

"Pretty much," he agreed. 

"I usually bake," Holly admitted, "When I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"Because it's methodical. Don't get me wrong, it can be creative and beautiful, but following a recipe is methodical. Even if the recipe is from memory," Holly replied, "Each ingredient is a step in the process, a step in the right direction to making something out of nothing I guess."

Holly continued, meeting Bucky's eyes with her own, "I find it relaxing."

He was watching her closely.

"Come on."

Holly frowned, "Where are we going?"

He smiled at her, softening his eyes, "Follow me."

He offered her his hand, and Holly found herself taking it. Bucky allowed her the seconds it took for her to slip her boots back on before he was tugging her out of her chair and onto the main operations floor and towards the lift.

The lift took them to the penthouse. Holly turned to look at Bucky, the question unspoken between them, but it was there hanging in the air. Bucky acknowledged it with another small smile and amusement danced in his eyes before he led her out of the lift. 

It was eerily quiet.

Soft light flicking too attention with every step they took further onto the floor. Holly couldn't see any signs of the others and had no doubt that they were still busy with the Hydra agents, or sleeping. 

"Bucky," Holly said softly. 

"You said you would bake if you were at your apartment."

"I said I bake when I can't sleep," Holly corrected. 

"Well, we have ingredients, and a large kitchen and I can assure you that whatever you make, will get eaten."

Holly eyed the kitchen, a jolt of eagerness shooting through her. 

She did find baking relaxing. 

"I don't want to be any trouble," Holly breathed. 

Bucky stepped closer to her, Holly could feel him. 

She leaned into him, into his heat almost instinctively, and breathed. 

His scent filling her nose, wholly masculine and Bucky with a hint of ozone and sea. It was comforting in a way Holly wasn't prepared to explore or think about. 

But nor did she move. 

They simply stood there, both of them breathing in tune to the other, standing as close as either of them dared without physically touching, yet close enough that Holly could feel the heat radiating from his body. 

He looked at her. 

She looked up at him. 

Their gazes locking, holding. 

The look in Bucky's eyes was flickering, searching and things she couldn't read yet at that moment Holly knew it was solely for her. 

She breathed. 

His chest rose. 

"You aren't any trouble," he said gently, "Show me how baking is relaxing."

There was a hint of pleading in his words, desperation that Bucky wouldn't say aloud, but it was there never the less. 

He wanted. 

No, he needed, something to focus on other than the lingering taint of his demons. 

Holly nodded, she could give him that. 

She couldn't give him much, but she could give him that. 

"What do you want to bake?"

"I don't know," he replied slowly.

Holly paused, thinking through a list of recipes. She had no idea what ingredients the kitchen stocked, and until she did, she couldn't rightly suggest anything. 

She moved towards the kitchen and opened cupboards, Bucky followed her, watching her every move. 

The cupboards had more than she expected. More than the basics. 

She could make Muffins, Danishes, Cinnamon rolls, Treacle tart, even an Apple pie.

She turned to look at him, a smile gracing her lips. 

"Treacle tart? It is one of my favourite sweets. And I can make Muffins, Cinnamon rolls, Danishes, and an Apple pie. You can try them all, see what you actually like." 

He returned her smile with one of his own and stepped closer. 

* * *

They started on the treacle tart first, after washing their hands, simply because the pastry needed to chill in the fridge for a while. 

Bucky gathered the tools needed, while Holly gathered the ingredients, making a mental note of everything she used so she would be able to replace it. 

Holly recited the instructions as she passed Bucky the ingredients that were needed, watching as he sieved the flour and salt into a large bowl. 

"Pre-warning, this is going to involve getting your hands dirty," Holly warned.

"How dirty are we talking about?"

"More messy than dirty to be honest, but once you add the butter in you need to rub it all together with your fingers into a fine breadcrumb texture. You can use a food processor - but I have always found this part relaxing," Holly answered. 

"My hands have been covered in worse in the past."

Holly reached for his metal arm, her fingers lacing with his as he added the butter to the bowl. 

He stilled. 

"It may have started out for the purpose to be used as a weapon, but it can be used to create, and it can be used to bake," Holly said tenderly. Using her hand, she guided his in rubbing the ingredients together, before pulling back and allowing him to continue breaking them into fine breadcrumbs. 

Together they added the remaining ingredients, Holly adding the egg yolks and water while Bucky mixed swiftly.

"How long have you liked baking?"

"I hated it when I was a kid, though I think that was more down to the fact that it was usually forced on me."

"Forced on you how?" Bucky asked with a frown as he formed the pastry into a ball and warped it before putting it into the fridge to chill. 

"It was one of my designated chores when I lived with my aunt and uncle," she answered slowly, moving onto the peeling the apples for the apple pie, while Bucky cleaned his bowl before starting the process again for making the next batch of pastry for the apple pie. 

"But I think I started to enjoy it properly when I was about seventeen, eighteen. But by then, I was doing it just for me."

"Did you have many chores growing up?"

Holly snorted, "I had a long list every damn day until I was eleven. Then I went to boarding school."

"Why...why were you living with your Aunt and Uncle?"

Her breath caught slightly, but Holly forced herself to carry on. 

"I'm sorry that was insensitive of me," Bucky said, watching her closely. 

"No, it's okay. It's ironic really, I'm used to people around me know what happened to my parents. At least in my boarding school. My family was an old family name, and the boarding school was exclusive, everyone knew what happened to my family before I did."

Bucky frowned, "I don't..."

Holly gave him a sad smile, "My parents were murdered, when I was a baby. My Aunt and Uncle didn't tell me what really happened until I was eleven, and even then, their hand was forced."

"What happened?"

Holly looked up in surprise at the sound of Steve's voice; even Bucky appeared to not have noticed Steve's approach.

Steve grimaced, "Sorry, I didn't mean to -" he trailed off. 

"No, it's okay," Holly said, inwardly cursing her own stupidity for not being aware of what was happening around her. "There was a man who believed the old bloodlines were better than new bloodlines. My family was an old bloodline, and my mother was new, she married into the family. They stood against everything he stood for, and he set out to make an example of them."

An oversimplification, but the best Holly could do. 

"He killed them."

"Yeah, it's where I got the lightning bolt scar from. I survived when my parents didn't."

"What happened to him?" Bucky asked, his voice cold and dangerous.

"He died," Holly replied, her throat tightening. It was just her luck that not only had Voldemort plagued her nightmares tonight, but also in waking she was referring to him as well. Delving into her past, a road she didn't want to travel down. 

Not again. 

"I'm sorry," Bucky said softly as if sensing her mood. "I shouldn't have asked."

"I was only a baby, not having my parents alive is something I accepted a long time ago, and you didn't know," Holly answered nonchalantly. "You couldn't have known."

She glanced back down at the apple in her hands, carefully chopping it into smaller pieces and adding it to the pan of boiling water so it could stew. 

She was aware that both Bucky and Steve were watching her closely, yet neither of them spoke, but even though they didn't say it aloud, she could feel neither of them bought her act. 

The silence stretched between them. 

It was Steve that broke it first. 

"What are you two doing?"

Holly was grateful that the question wasn't asking more about her past. 

"Baking would be the obvious answer," Bucky snickered. 

"I can see that," Steve said, an eyebrow raised. 

"Neither of us could sleep," Holly replied, taking pity on him, "I find baking relaxing and Bucky wanted me to show him."

Something flashed across Steve's face but was quickly gone before she could decipher it. 

"You can't sleep?" Holly asked, tilting her head slightly, so she could see both Steve and Bucky. 

The two of them shared a look with each other before looking at her. She could see the hesitation in Steve's eyes as if he didn't want to impose but also to a degree wanted to join in. 

"I've not tried," Steve admitted, she could see the tiredness in his face.

He didn't voice it aloud that he had been observing the interrogation but Holly knew he had. 

From the way Bucky stiffened she wasn't the only one. 

She didn't know exactly what had occurred early that had caused the raging storm within Bucky to unleash itself but she could suspect it had something to do with West and Gibbs. 

"You any good at making soft dough for Cinnamon rolls?" Holly asked raising her eyebrow. 

It was a change of subject and one that both of them appreciated. 

Steve smiled slightly, "If you tell me how."

"Alright, Captain, here is what you need to do," she teased, watching in amusement as Steve approached the kitchen counter. 

There was enough room for the three of them to work, and Holly relayed instructions to the both of them, helping and showing when she needed to. 

It was relaxing, and she could admit even fun, especially when flour ended up across Steve's cheek and Bucky's forehead. The two of them smiling and chuckling in amusement as they teased each other. 

Holly couldn't say for certain exactly what was plaguing them all, though she had no doubt that in a way it was all connected to Hydra.

At that moment as the kitchen filled with the scent of sweet treats cooking, and flour flew across at each other, Holly wasn't sure it mattered, she just knew that the lingering taint slipped away and there was a lightness filtering through her and through them.

She smiled at Bucky, "You know covered in flour, you look adorable."

He wiped leftover dough mix on her nose. 

"Mature, real mature."

"You will learn pretty quickly, that Bucky isn't mature," Steve chuckled, as he prepared to take a bite out of the apple pie. 

The sun had risen, but Holly couldn't say for sure when it had, just that it had. 

"Careful the apples aren't too hot, nothing worse than burning your mouth," she warned, cutting the treacle tart into slices and passing one across to Bucky. 

Her mouth watered as she picked at some on her fork and took a mouthful, moaning softly to herself. 

Though from the looks both Bucky and Steve gave her, she quickly realised it wasn't as quiet as she thought it was. 

"That is good," Bucky hummed in agreement, taking his own bite of the treacle tart. "Really good."

"Apple pie is still the best," Steve added. 

Bucky reached over and took a forkful of the apple pie, popping it into his mouth before Steve could protest. 

"Hey!"

"What, you not going to eat the whole pie," Bucky shrugged. 

"I might," Steve chuckled, "I just might."

Holly smiled at them both, they still looked tired, but there didn't appear to be a heaviness pressing down on either of them as there had been before they started baking. 

Holly knew their problems, their demons hadn't been forgotten but for the moment, between the three of them, as they enjoyed the home baked goodies, and shared with each other each of the treats, they had found something to ease their burdens just a little. 

* * *

The silence stretched across the room as he stared down the man in front of him. 

His patience was wearing thin.

Those who knew him best knew to avoid him with a wide breadth and his own men who stood at his back had left enough space between them and him. 

But the man in front didn't, he thought he was better than him. 

With his fancy suit, and thousand dollar pair of shoes. 

He could see the arrogance in his posture, in his eyes and in the sneer that twisted his lips. 

He wanted to wipe the sneer off his face. 

He didn't. 

He waited, his eyes never wavering as he held the man's gaze, like two lions circling each other, searching for a weakness, a chink in the armour that would allow them to attack the other. 

All the while they waited. 

The man in front wasn't the boss. 

The boss was late, was making _him_ wait.

He knew this game well, one he had learnt long ago. Those who thought they held power, who thought they were in control liked to throw their weight around.

They thought it made a point. 

In his opinion, it showed him how little power they had. 

It was laughable, a joke and if he could, he wouldn't have wasted his time dealing with them. 

But they were willing to buy weapons, and they weren't ready to deal with anybody else. 

They were late because they were trying to make a point. 

It annoyed him, he had a lot of other shit he needed to do this night. 

The double doors behind him opened, the familiar footsteps of his second in command thudded as he drew closer. 

Brock Rumlow turned his head slightly as Rollins leaned closer to speak softly. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, voice dangerously quiet. 

Rollins nodded his head in confirmation. 

He turned his attention back to the man in front of him growling he said, "This meeting is over. I don't give a fuck about your boss's excuses, we are done here." 

The man spluttered, "The weapons -"

"Triple. And that is no longer negotiable."

He didn't wait for a response, he was already out of the door, Rollins close behind him, and the rest of his men filing behind. 

"West and Gibbs?"

"That is what the source has said," Rollins confirmed. 

"If that little shit is lying I will cut our his liver and feed it to him," he snarled as he exited the building, striding towards the van parked out front. "Get the boss on the line, now!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is my longest yet and one that took me on a different track to how I originally planned it. 
> 
> As a little Holiday treat I can confirm that Thor will be making an appearance in the next chapter. 
> 
> Exciting times ahead.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, kudos, bookmarked and subscribed.  
I really appreciate the support you are all given and I am taken away by how many of you are enjoying the story so far and amazing encouragement you give. You are truly wonderful and I cannot express how much I love hearing from you.  
I loved writing this chapter and had fun doing so, I hope you enjoy it to.  
Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 9**

His mind whirled, a mass of ideas and calculations spinning. 

He wasn't sure it ever stopped. 

He had never known how to stop come to think about it, but Tony could admit it had gotten considerably worse since the Battle of New York. 

Not even in sleep did his mind stop. 

It whirled and whirled and raced and raced, and all Tony wanted to do was stop and scream for silence. 

For just a moment. 

But silence reminded him too much of the other side of the portal. The all imposing darkness that brought home how big the universe was and how small he was. 

Were all he had been able to do was watch and pray as death loomed before him in the form of the Chitauri army, edging ever closer and growing in size and speed, like a tidal wave approaching land, as they descended on them all.

No, Tony didn't do well with silence anymore; even now Jarvis was playing music in the background to drown out the silence that was reaching for him. 

In silence, Tony was filled with every fear he had and wasn't able to adequately express. 

In silence, he knew, he wasn't enough. 

Had never been enough.

Would never be enough. 

But it wasn't just him that the truth came to light; the others as well wouldn't be enough to face what was out there. 

They weren't enough to keep this world safe. 

They had gotten damn lucky in New York; they hadn't had any real plan. 

They, _he,_ needed to be better. 

Do better. 

The Ultron program was better. 

Global peacekeeping program. 

_A suit around the world. _

It wasn't ready, but they were almost there, Tony could feel it. 

Machines beeped loudly. 

His eyes snapped across the various screens as Jarvis ran through the latest simulation he had requested.

"What happened Jarvis?"

"Using your current calculations, the outcome resulted in an explosion, Sir."

"Fuck," he said wearily, "Run full diagnostics, we want to be able to neutralise the weapons, _not _blow them and anyone close to them up. Unless they are Hydra that wouldn't be so bad."

"By the readings of the simulation, Sir, you and the other Avengers would be within the radius of the explosion." 

"That's a definite no then," Tony took a sip of his drink grimacing at the stone-cold coffee. Glancing over at the coffee pot, he could see that it was empty. 

Pepper only allowed a certain amount in his lab to avoid him pulling all-nighters. 

Not that it stopped him from doing that. 

He rubbed his forehead, closed his eyes and took a breath. 

"Jarvis, run full diagnostics of the simulation, I am going to get more coffee," he looked at his phone, "Brucie-bear and Phillips will be here soon, and I need to be on the ball."

"Of course Sir," Jarvis replied.

Tony picked up his phone before walking towards the elevator. Swiping and typing as he declined meetings fired messages off and busied himself with tinkering with the design for Rhodey's suit.

The doors opened with a soft hiss, and Tony stepped out onto the penthouse floor, his eyes never leaving his phone. 

It was the smell of freshly made coffee mixed in with the aroma of homemade baked goods that made him look up from his phone. 

The sight of the kitchen made him pause. 

Steve, Barnes and Potter were sitting together, clearly having spent a few hours in the kitchen eating...cakes?

Tony blinked. 

It had been nine months since the others had moved into the Avengers Tower (eight for Barnes) and Tony still wasn't used to the fact the others were here yet. 

Not that he minded, it had been the whole idea behind having Avengers Tower, for them to be all together, but it was taking him time to adjust, and he still wasn't used to others being awake at this time.

And from the look of them, the three of them had been up for a few hours. 

"Morning," he greeted, plastering on the smile he had perfected for years. The smile that said everything was fine, nothing was wrong. 

Rarely anybody looked close enough to see how fake the smile was. 

The three of them stopped mid-conversation and as one turned to look up at him. 

Okay, that was kind of freaky, maybe it was the whole soulmates - thing. 

Tony pushed the thought away as he moved closer to the kitchen. 

"Morning, Tony," Steve greeted. 

Barnes remained silent, but then that was hardly new, Barnes was quiet around most people, but Potter offered him a warm smile and greeting of her own. 

He glanced around the kitchen. There were signs they had been baking, just as there were signs they had made a start on tidying up after themselves as well - though he could still see signs of flour on the countertops, and...Barnes had some in his hair. 

Potter seemed to have pastry on her nose, she looked adorable. 

"You've been busy," he noted, wiggling his eyebrows as he poured himself a mug of coffee, "How long have you been up for?"

"A few hours," Steve replied, "You've been up all night?"

"No rest for the wicked." Tony took a much needed sip. 

He looked up from his mug; Steve was sipping his own drink and Potter was picking at a Cinnamon Roll as she spoke softly with Barnes. Barnes was looking at her, but Tony knew Barnes was still paying attention to his environment. 

To him. 

Tony watched them as he sipped his coffee.

He could admit that he had been busy this past week, so he hadn't had much interaction with Potter besides the first initial contact. 

Of course, that didn't stop him from looking into her. He had Jarvis looking into every aspect of her life the moment it came to light that Holly Jamie Potter existed and the connection she had to one Captain America and one Winter Soldier. 

There had been little to find. 

Potter had no Social Media accounts, no presence on the internet at all.

And wasn't that an oddity in this day and age. 

And suspicious. 

Had it not been for the fact that he had found a birth certificate for a Holly Jamie Potter, that matched the dates Potter had supplied on her application, Tony would almost say she had given a fake name. 

He knew her parents; one James and Lily Potter were deceased. Though he hadn't been able to find much else about their deaths. He had found that she had lived with her aunt and uncle in Little Whinging in Surrey. 

Potter hadn't supplied their names as her next of kin should the worse happen, and they were still living. 

Tony knew enough about broken families to understand that she might not be speaking to her aunt and uncle. 

He took another sip of his drink, and glanced towards Potter. 

There was very little to find, in fact, her records had stopped at the age of eleven and restarted again when she was in her early twenties and had started working for the Evans-Black Foundation. 

And then seven months ago she started renting an apartment in Hell's Kitchen. 

It was a large gap to have missing information and made him curious enough that he wanted to find out that information. 

Of course Jarvis was still looking and Tony was confident he would find all there was to find. 

And he knew he wasn't the only one either, he knew perfectly well that Romanoff was busy tracking down information, Tony felt it was his duty to find it first. 

A little healthy competition never hurt anyone. 

"So," he said slowly, "who's been busy baking?"

"We all have, though Holly instructed," Steve answered.

Tony raised an eyebrow and looked at Potter. 

She shrugged, "I like baking. Help yourself."

He didn't need telling twice, he reached for a Cinnamon Roll. 

"Where did you learn to bake?" he asked, as he took a bite of the roll. A burst of flavours exploded in his mouth. 

It was good. 

"I learned when I was younger."

"Did your Aunt teach you?"

Potter's shoulders stiffened at the mention of her relatives and Tony realised that just maybe flying full speed ahead might not be the best option going forward. 

And if the cold stare that Barnes was giving him was anything to go by he wasn't the only one who thought it.

"You could say that," Potter answered with just a sliver of ice in her voice. 

He didn't push. 

He wanted to, but he didn't. 

Instead, he went for a different tact. 

"Ever considered baking professionally?"

Potter blinked at him in surprise, her eyes meeting his gaze, "I can't say that I have."

"Well, I would hire you in a second."

She snorted, "Technically, you already have."

"Well, yes, I suppose I have," he agreed. 

He sipped his coffee, the silence stretching between the three of them. 

"Are you having much luck with a way to stop the weapons?" Steve asked, directing the attention away from Potter.

Tony couldn't be sure that he had done it deliberately or to just fill the silence. 

"If exploding weapons count as stopping," he said, moving to refill his own coffee pot with coffee so he could return to the lab. 

"Speaking of, I should probably get back to it."

"Take some with you, you pulled an all-nighter you need to refuel," Potter offered a warm smile crossing her lips. 

He glanced at her in surprise. 

Her green eyes watching him closely. 

Tony had the impression she was seeing more than most people saw when they looked at him. Was seeing past the smile and the charm. 

Was seeing that he was damn tired, but he couldn't let that tiredness stop him. 

"Thank you," he picked up a small plate, filled it with a mix of delights before nodding at them all and made his way towards the lift. 

Potter was a puzzle.

He had always liked puzzles, and that hadn't changed. 

He was determined to fit those pieces together. 

As the elevator doors closed he said aloud, "Jarvis, how are we doing looking into Potter. I know we haven't found much yet."

Jarvis didn't answer right away, he hesitated, almost, but Jarvis shouldn't be able to hesitate not really.

"Sir, I believe I have found something."

Tony frowned as his phone pinged; he slid the message open, his eyes scanning through the content. 

Well, wasn't that interesting.

* * *

The days passed by as Holly fell into a routine within the Tower. 

Consisting of training, stake-outs and chasing any leads that presented themselves in the mountains of information that Jarvis, Hill and Sawyer unearthed. 

Romanoff had taken her out with a list of names of known weapon dealers which resulted in her leaving the Tower chasing those leads. 

It was during those outings that Holly found herself slipping into an easy comradeship with the other woman. She even found herself referring her more and more as Natasha. 

Holly couldn't say that their visits were fruitful, while on the sleazy side and more than willing to sell to individuals without the proper paperwork, or off the books they had no genuine ties to the underworld when looked at closely. 

With Natasha using her charms or a cocked eyebrow and fierce glare as a tactic Holly was more than willing to spend a few precious moments skimming the surfaces of their mind as delicately as she could they were quick to cross names off. 

Using Legilimency on muggles was not something Holly did lightly, but it was far easier to do so than on other witches and wizards. Only requiring eye contact and the minimum of will power it never required her to dig deeper or put them at risk of permanent damage. 

Even so, she only used it when Natasha's presence and charms weren't enough.

Despite the urgency that filled the air in the Tower, Holly found she was enjoying the work. Reminding her so much of her own time as an Auror, she found herself falling into the easy banter between her colleagues and the support with the frustrating dead ends and learning their quirks. 

Though despite the growing comradeship, Holly still forced herself to remain on guard, always ensured she never revealed more than she had to, and kept them at arm's length. 

Even when Graves and a fellow detective came to the Tower to pick up West and Gibbs. 

The wizard had ensured their paths crossed long enough for a shared coffee while he dug for more information, outside the Tower, as Holly carefully reminded him of the monitoring cameras in the tower, she had actively done her best to avoid him as well.

She was taking a leap of faith in trusting him not to report her to his Captain and Holly was reluctant to give him everything she knew in case he changed his mind. 

Especially when she didn't know enough about him. 

Though she had learnt quickly enough about his family name when she had made contact with Hermione on the brief breaks she had outside the Tower.

A shiver ran down the length of her spine.

Holly froze. 

Something was wrong, very wrong.

The sky darkened outside the Tower. Thick black clouds, rolled across New York.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder rumbled overhead bringing with it the sense that the heavens might split apart at any moment. Declaring for all to hear the raw power it held and a warning of its wrath. Loud enough that it almost seemed to vibrate through the Tower.

Her nose twitched as the scent of ozone washed over her. 

Thick and heavy she could taste it on her tongue, it hit the back of her throat, and she almost choked on it. 

Magic.

Old Magic and ozone. 

An otherworldly force.

Massive clouds churned in the sky, but rather than the usual grey-black darkness it was swirls of rainbow colours that shimmered and glittered and pulsed with _magic_ unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Holly pushed herself to her feet and walked to the glass window. 

"It's Thor," Sawyer said, coming up next to her. 

"Excuse me?"

"Thor has returned to the Tower, it's how he gets from one place to another. I can't explain how, I was an analyst of data not," he waved his hand at the sky, "that."

"Right," Holly whispered.

Lightning cracked and thunder roared and the wind howled. 

Magic sparked, and her own rose to meet it, shielding her almost instinctively, pushing back the weight of this otherworldly force that threatened to snap her up. 

The magic whirled faster, ripped through her own like it was paper and pressed against her skin, feeling, seeking, tasting. 

Holly shivered, as it gripped tightly around her, but she didn't try and fight it, she just fought to keep herself upright.

Thor was back. 

The Asgardian was in the Tower.

The Tower she was currently in. 

Holly had hoped she would be able to avoid meeting the Asgardian for a little longer, at least until she was somewhat more prepared, but Holly couldn't see how she could get out of meeting him now.

Holly closed her eyes and took a breath. 

Her mind raced. 

Holly had no idea whether the Asgardian would recognise her as a magic-user. 

She knew the stories. 

Had read the journals, the books - had listened intently to the lessons. 

Contrary to popular belief, the Wizarding World, while not advanced compared to muggle's advancements over the years; _had_ always known there was more out there in the universe. 

Had always known they were not alone. 

Had fought alongside...and fought against races far superior to the muggles of today. 

When magic was once worshipped, cherished, and respected.

When they had protected and guarded earth. 

When they hadn't had to hide. 

Before muggles hunted them down. 

But the world had changed, and they had to change with it. 

Falling into the shadows, separating their worlds as they did. 

Could her being here now, with Thor in the same building risk all of that?

She opened her eyes. 

It was a risk, a significant risk, but as long as she didn't use her magic, she could perhaps, just maybe get away with without Thor recognising her.

And if he did, there was one thing she could do. 

One thing she could try and hope that even though it had been centuries since a witch or wizard had crossed path with an Asgardian that Thor would recognise the rite and do his part. 

If he didn't, and he outed her - well Holly knew she would have to deal with it if it came down to that, but she could hope.

"Potter."

Holly turned to look at Hill as the woman drew up next to her. 

"You free?"

"Until I'm due to take over from the detectives at the next shift." Holly nodded. 

"It won't take long. I need Stark to sign off on the latest order, but Happy has asked me to deal with an issue that has just cropped up with one of the Security guys."

"And he is where?"

"Thor is back, so he will be in the penthouse."

Of course, he was.

Inwardly Holly cursed, not only had the Asgardian arrived, but the fates were conspiring against her to make sure their paths crossed now. 

Holly plastered a smile across her face as she took the Pad Hill handed to her. 

"I will head up there now," she answered, moving towards the lift, all the while a voice inside her screamed to turn tail and run in the opposite direction.

* * *

Mjolnir hummed by his side the moment his feet touched the platform of the Avengers Tower. 

An old tune belonging to an old story filled the air, pressing down against his skin and worming its way into his core.

It had been some time since Mjolnir had told this particular tale, and Thor couldn't understand why it had decided to sing it now. Why it would hold any significance here at the heart of the Avengers Tower?

It brought images to mind of a time when he was a boy had had first visited Midgard before his people had withdrawn. 

He reached for the slipstream, the ever-flowing current of air that engulfed the world, his to command and use, to summon and in turn now allow him to stretch his senses further throughout the Tower than he would otherwise be able to. 

The song increased. 

Reverberated through, him. 

But it was not just Mjolnir's song he heard. 

He heard another. 

One that brought to life images of fire and air, earth and water, magic and death. 

Mjolnir joined in harmony, and together the two of them spun and entwined like lovers dancing to a song only they knew. 

It had been a long time indeed since he had heard the song of magic that belonged to Midgard.

And Thor couldn't say he found it unpleasant to hear now.

It was with a distracted mind he greeted his fellow brothers and sister in arms, as Mjolnir still hummed, and even sung, and spun its tale and Thor could not bring himself to stop listening. 

No matter how delighted he was to see his friends.

"Thor," Steve greeted last, gripping his arm in his and giving the shake of warriors. 

"Steve," he returned with a warm smile and firm grip of his own. 

"How is Jane?"

"Jane is well; she is busy with her research and her paper. I fear she will hardly notice my absence." 

Steve smiled at him, "I'm sure she will notice, but I have been following her work online, I know she is preparing for a Convention next month."

"I, she is," Thor confirmed, "It is in the city, I hope that we can deal with the threat before then."

The warmth that had shown in Steve's face fell away as grim determination replaced it. 

"There is much we need to discuss, before tomorrow night," Steve started, "I am certain what we know is only the tip of the iceberg. We have been able to detain two Hydra Agents since we last spoke they have yet revealed anything that would be considered useful."

"I would be happy to introduce them to Mjolnir if you feel it would have any impact."

Steve's eyes lit with amusement for a few brief seconds as they moved towards the elevator that would take them up to the penthouse. The others had already made their way upwards, leaving the two of them to bring up the rear.

"While I would have perhaps taken you up on that offer, they are no longer at the Tower."

Thor liked Steve. He was courageous, level-headed and had a strong sense of justice that Thor could see making him a likely candidate worthy to wield Mjolnir. 

Thor respected him, but as he had worked closely with the team in the last nine months since the fall of Shield, he could sense more about the man than he had expected. 

With the knowledge that Steve was twice-blessed and the fact that all three of them were currently in the City, in the very same building, Thor _knew_ something was coming. He could hear the beats of the war drums on the edges of his awareness and the whispers of the Norns were spinning across the universe.

Subtle and one had to tune in to listen to them, but they were there, and Thor knew that Steve would be at the heart of facing whatever was coming as in turn would Sergeant Barnes and the Lady Potter.

Thor just hoped that they would be strong enough together to face what was coming.

"How are you finding Lady Potter working here?" Thor asked. 

He saw Steve's shoulders tense. 

"Holly is not like I was expecting her to be."

Thor looked at him, "Is that a good thing?"

"Yes. We are getting to know each other slowly. Holly...Holly seems to be hesitant to open up and we are showing caution. But working with her is easier than I thought it would be."

Thor could admit he may not understand all the social etiquette that the mortals governed their lives around, Asgardians being more open about some things that mortals were not, but he knew by the tone in Steve's voice not to push further. 

The elevator doors slid out, and Mjolnir vibrated, the song gaining strength with every step he took. 

Mjolnir had yet to lead him astray, and Thor was willing to trust his companion that danger wasn't present despite the scent of magic filtering through the air. 

The sound of Stark's voice cut through the air, and his eyes scanned the penthouse. 

The others seemed to be watching with amusement as the man of iron faced off against a woman two or three inches smaller than him. 

"Nope. Sorry. Not doing that today. Please come back another day."

"Sign."

"No."

"Sign."

"I don't want to," Stark whined. 

"Holly?" Steve said in surprise. 

The woman turned towards them, her eyes flickered between the two of them. 

Thor paused as green eyes met his for the briefest of seconds and he found himself instantly thinking of his brother Loki. Green eyes and dark hair, though Thor noted that was where the similarities ended, he had not seen a mortal with eyes that mirrored Loki's before. 

Natasha's eyes, while green didn't have the same light in them, the same spark of something ancient and powerful, yet this woman did. 

"Don't mind me, I'm here to pin down Houdini over there so he can sign something for Hill," she smiled, before turning her attention back to Stark, her eyes darkened and narrowed. "Sign or I will rearrange your lab."

"You wouldn't! Jarvis wouldn't let you in." 

The Lady Potter smirked, "Don't test me. Sign them."

She held the Pad out to him.

"I don't like being handed things," he muttered.

She raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a look that Thor had come to recognise as dangerous. 

A look that the Lady Sif had perfected to a fine art. 

Stark let out a sigh before reluctantly taking the device off her, and with great exaggeration signed the Pad. 

"You're terrifying, has anyone ever told you that," Sam admitted, breaking the silence.

"Oh, you don't even know the half of it," Lady Potter winked at him.

"Please tell me someone filmed that," Clint whistled, "I've never seen Stark back down to anyone that wasn't Pepper." 

"Thor I don't believe you have met Holly," Steve said, shooting a look towards Clint and Sam.

Lady Potter turned her attention to him once again, her green eyes locking gazes with his, a smile crossing her lips. 

She didn't flinch, under the weight of his gaze, she seemed to straighten, as if she was rising to a challenge he did not issue. 

Thor smiled, "Well met Lady Potter."

He raised his hand in greeting and waited for her response. He knew the others watched in amusement, while they accepted his formal greetings they didn't truly understand the importance of them. 

She raised her own hand, taking his in hers.

Mjolnir's song amplified. A burst of colour exploded inside of him, and his eyes widened. Magic burned in her hands. 

But it was more than just magic. 

Power of a different kind surrounded Lady Potter, it swirled around her and carried the taste of death. 

It was in that moment that Thor recognised a third element to the song he was hearing. 

He was hearing the song of the Hollows. 

The air hummed with it. 

Thor was surprised that the others were so blind to its presence.

Green eyes widened, and Thor knew she could hear Mjolnir's own song, as clearly as he could listen to her magic's song. 

It made him wonder whether she could also hear the Hollows song.

Resignation settled across her eyes, but her smile never faltered.

Even so, he was a Prince of Asgard and new the rules of court and magic or not, Asgard or Midgard, Thor still followed those rules. He raised her hand to his lips and placed a courtly kiss to her knuckles. 

He could taste her magic, hot and living, yet there was a coldness that clung to it. She was a maelstrom of magic and amongst it all, he could taste death on the back of his throat. 

Mjolnir hummed in greeting. 

"Well met, Thor son of Odin," she greeted softly, her head dipped an inch in acknowledgement before rising and their eyes locked. "May we greet as strangers and leave as friends, as it once was and shall be again."

He felt her finger run across the palm of his hand, and as they let go, he saw the faint glow of a rune shine brightly before disappearing.

The rune of peace.

A sign that she had come in peace, but it was more than just peace. 

It was also the rune of silence. 

Lady Potter had magic. 

Lady Potter belonged to the magical people of Midgard, and she had just evoked an ancient rite, one he was honour bound to answer. 

He knew the stories of their kind, how they had formed an alliance with the Asgardian to stand with them and protect Midgard. His mother had always spoken fondly of them and with a warmth that she usually reserved for him and Loki. But then some of their wisest had learnt from Frigga and Frigga had, in turn, learned magic from them, combining their magical arts and talents. 

Loki had been fond of them. 

Thor remembered walking amongst them as a child, but he had never had the calling for magic and had eventually turned to the path of a warrior. 

Yet as the centuries passed, things changed, and the magical kind had drifted and as Asgard withdrew from Midgard so too did the magical kind, closing their doors and turning to the shadows. 

He was uncertain as to what caused the rift between their people, but the drift had happened and Asgard forgot about the alliance they shared with them. 

"I'm sorry; I didn't quite catch that last bit?" Stark said suddenly, breaking the uneasy silence that had fallen. 

Lady Potter's eyes hadn't left his for a second and Thor could see she was preparing herself for his reaction. 

"It is an ancient rite amongst my people. It is used to form alliances between two empires, two races or two worlds."

He nodded his head at her, which she returned. 

"There are remnants of Asgardian visits around the world, if you know where to look," Lady Potter said as looking towards Stark, "I have seen one or two of them and have perhaps misused them now."

Thor knew she hadn't misused them, in using them she had ensured for the moment his silence of what the Lady Potter was but had also assured him she came in peace and did not mean him or the Avengers harm. 

"I need to get this back to Hill. It was nice to meet you, Thor."

"And you, Lady Potter."

"Holly, please."

Thor watched as she made her way towards the elevators, stopping briefly to converse with Barnes.

Were he free to speak of magic, Thor wasn't sure he would tell them. Not when their first introduction to magic had been Loki and his mind control and invasion. What if they reacted badly to Holly purely because they did not understand magic?

How would it affect Steve and Sergeant Barnes interactions? And what right did he have to interfere with what was growing or not growing between them? 

No, Thor would stay silent, and not just because he had entered the rite with the confirmation that he would, but because he felt it was the right thing to do. 

He intended to seek out Lady Potter as soon as he was able to. 

* * *

Red, orange and gold spread across the morning sky as the sun rose over the city. 

It was beautiful to watch. 

Peaceful. 

Soothing. 

Holly soaked it up as she huddled around her cup of tea, a Mrs Weasley jumper wrapped around her, enjoying the few moments of peace before the day truly started. 

Yet despite the beauty, Holly knew the warning a red sky carried. 

Unease crept up from the bottom of her spine as she recalled the old rhyme. 

_Red sky at morning, witches take warning. _

Magic was on the air Holly could sense it. Could feel the tug deep inside her core, and considering the night's mission Holly wasn't sure that boded well for them. 

"May I join you, Lady Potter?"

Holly stiffened, at the sound of Thor's voice. She gripped her cup tighter, forced herself to focus on her breathing and calm of her racing heart.

She knew the moment he had recognised her yesterday, just as she had known that as she invoked the strangers-to-friends rite and the rune of peace, Thor would seek her out. 

Holly just hadn't expected it to be so quickly.

"You may," she said slowly, glancing sideways as he drew level with her. 

Up close, she could see just how much he towered over her, how big his muscles were. Yet it was the power that rolled off him that gave her a moment's pause, as if she was in the eye of the storm and the world around him raged.

"I had not expected to cross paths with one of your kind."

"And what kind am I?" she asked, her voice calm and unafraid. 

"One of the Vǫlur."

Holly turned her head to look up at him. He wasn't looking at her; he was looking out at the morning sky.

"That is not a term I know," she replied, or at least it wasn't a term she was confident she knew. 

He looked down at her, his gaze locking with hers. The full weight of his attention mirrored pressure building for a storm and Holly could see that storm growing in his blue eyes. 

"Some would call you Enchantress, Sorceress and Witch. Others would say High Priestess. None of them are wrong, but none of them is entirely right for what your race is."

Her wand was in her hand before she could blink, flicking it in the appropriate movement while she non-verbally cast the charm for privacy wards, before pushing it back into its holster. 

"We use the term Witch and Wizard, and this is not a conversation I can have openly," she warned coldly, her eyes narrowing as she threw a glare at the Asgardian. 

"What did you do?" 

"A privacy charm. It won't harm anyone, all they will be able to hear is an annoying buzz, including Jarvis, but it is something I want to avoid using for a long time," Holly answered.

Thor's eyes widened. 

"What do you want from me, Thor? You have sought me out for a reason?"

"What is your purpose here, Lady Potter?"

"Holly, it's just Holly," Holly said all the while thoughts raced across her mind. 

She hadn't expected that question, she hadn't expected Thor to cut straight to the point, but that was a mistake on her part. She was honour bound to answer him. Strangers to friends all but demanded it. While she didn't have to tell him everything, for the moment, no lie could pass between them. If it did it rendered that ancient rite she had invoked void. 

She had taken a risk invoking it, but it had been a necessary one. If she hadn't, Thor could have said something there and then yesterday. 

But _he_ had chosen to accept it. He did that of his own free will. He could have still said something, but by accepting the rite, he had decided to remain silent, for the time being.

Holly knew she could tell him everything and he would have to stay silent. 

It wouldn't be fair of her to do so, not when the Avengers needed to trust one another.

"Asgard withdrew from earth," Holly started, "Wizardkind followed their example. We withdrew and in the end, became little more than stories. We had to, for everybody's safety."

"You broke the sacred oath?" Thor asked, a dark look crossing his face. 

"Our accounts say your father broke it first. He did not just break the oath, he broke the rite, and he lied and betrayed us."

"It cannot be as you say," Thor rebuked, "Asgard has protected the nine realms from all threats."

Holly didn't say anything, the shared history between Wizardkind and Asgard wasn't necessary, and she hadn't been alive then to say what happened with any certainty. 

"They are our accounts. Only Asgardians are alive to say what truly happened. But it isn't the point, the point is the magical world is hidden and has been for centuries," Holly continued, "There are certain individuals within the governments from across the world that are aware of our existence, and it has been agreed that it is best to keep both worlds separate."

"That does not explain your presence here," Thor pointed out. 

"Hydra knows about the Wizarding World Thor, and it has been taking our children," Holly answered.

Realisation crossed Thor's face giving away to thundering anger. A gust of wind picked up a loose stray hair before letting it fall. Black thick clouds seemed to appear out of nowhere, and Holly could taste the rain on her tongue. 

Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder rumbled a warning that the heavens were about to open any second. 

Holly grabbed Thor's arm without thinking, a jolt of power shot through her body.

"Don't you dare," she warned, letting her own anger burn in her eyes. 

Now wasn't the time to lose control. Now wasn't the time for anger, anger while useful could make you make mistakes, and neither of them could afford that. 

"Reel it back in Thor."

Holly could see it was an effort, and effort for him to let go of the storm, but Thor did it. Returning the sky over New York City to the calm it was minutes ago, if somewhat darker. 

The clouds didn't vanish exactly, but they no longer threatened to unleash their fury onto the unsuspecting world. 

Thor's eyes told a different story, he may have leashed his fury for the time being, but it was still there, crashing across his blue eyes. 

"They dare?"

Holly nodded, "I'm here to stop Hydra and not reveal the magical world if I can help it. I am here to save as many of those children that I can."

Thor took his hand in hers, "I, Thor, Prince of Asgard give you my promise and my oath that I will aid you in stopping Hydra and saving the magical children. Your burdens and struggles are my own. You have my life, and the might of Mjolnir." 

Each word he said carried across the air, settling into their skins where their hands joined, magic binding them in a way that the Rite of Strangers to Friends would never be able to accomplish. Holly had not been expecting it. Had not expected the understanding and the anger on their behalf from another. 

Had her time with Hydra and the last three years hunting them made her so cynical about the world when years fighting Voldemort had not? 

The words that followed perhaps weren't the smartest she had ever uttered but they were real and right. Holly trusted her instincts at this moment, and they were guiding her. 

"I Holly Jamie Potter accept your promise and your oath and give you my own. Your burdens and struggles are my own. Your battles are my battles."

Magic settled over them, and they let go of each hand. Holly dropped the privacy ward confident that Thor wouldn't talk about magic. 

Whatever the consequences of taking such an oath with the Prince of Asgard, then Holly would accept them. Though one thing she was sure of. She hadn't broken the Statute of Secrecy, not when Thor already knew about the magical world.

Of course, if she didn't survive tonight or the fight against Hydra, worrying about the laws she was breaking was irrelevant because she would be dead either way.

"Tell me, Holly, how did you come into possession of the Hollows and in turn Master them."

Holly blinked in surprise, she really hadn't expected that question. 

"It's complicated, and not something I talk about," she replied, "How did you know?"

"I can hear their song. I can feel their power, _your_ power."

Holly turned to look at him, "I don't understand."

"You don't hear the song?" he asked, looking down at her, his eyes widening in surprise. 

She shook her head. 

"I cannot explain it, you will know when you hear their song. Just as I learned to hear Mjolnir's song."

Holly threw him a look, it didn't make sense, but if Thor could sense the Hollows, then she needed to tackle shielding them sooner rather than later. 

The last thing she needed was other people to be able to sense them.

* * *

The slow build-up before a mission always left a jittery energy crackling beneath her skin. 

Pre-mission jitters. 

Over the years she had found different ways to deal with it. 

Listening to loud music while she got ready, running over last minute details of the plans with her team, or finding a quiet spot to silently prepare for the oncoming battle.

To soothe the frantic note in her pulse and direct it in a more beneficial direction. 

But then Holly always found it was the quiet where her mind raced and thoughts churned, but the heat of a battle she was calm as the sea could be. 

Holly had no say in the plans for tonight, no control over the movements. She wasn't the leader, she wasn't in charge. She was one of the people that needed to wait for orders and follow orders.

It left her feeling odd, like a loose part just waiting for the time and the place to be useful again. 

It was an unusual position for her to be in, and while she had no problem relinquishing the position of leader, Holly couldn't remember a time in her life where people didn't look to her for direction, for the next cause of action. 

It was why she had opted to retreat to her guest room to silently run through possible scenarios where it would be acceptable for her to use magic. 

It was a short list, but Holly felt it was better to be prepared than caught unaware. 

It was that train of thought that had her currently gathering the items she would be taking out in the field with her.

The Indivisibility Cloak she had had since she was eleven, now no longer needed to be on her person whenever she ventured out, much like the other two members of a triad Holly didn't like to think about, it answered her call when she summoned it. 

Even so, she folded it neatly into the pouch on her Auror's Utility belt. She carefully added various magical items and Weasleys Wizard Wheezes products that she knew were useful in a fight.

Holly eyed the one-piece suit currently lying on her bed once she was done. Natasha claimed it was standard issue tactical gear SHIELD had used when she had dropped it off along with the other exciting goodies that Holly had neatly lain out on the bed. 

If she was going, to be honest, the goodies held her interest far more than the one-piece suit did, and she couldn't help but wonder whether she would be able to sneak on her dragon hide Auror robes instead. 

Somehow Holly knew, resistance was futile in this instant, and somewhat reluctantly changed. 

The one-piece clung to her body like a second skin.

It may have flattered her figure, emphasising the curves and the muscles she had but Holly could see that its design was for function, not fashion. 

The material was flexible enough that she could move and stretch without fear; it would rip at the seams. Despite the appearance of being uncomfortable, the material wasn't as itchy as it appeared and was a lot lighter than she had thought it was. The high collar offered protection on her neck without the feeling of confinement. 

Glancing back down at the bed at the final piece, before she added the utility belts, Holly frowned slightly before picking it up.

An extra vest, slightly padded and with more straps and fastens than she cared for. 

"It's a bullet proof vest. Stark's design for Natasha so it fits with the SHIELD tactical gear she is used to wearing."

Holly glanced over her shoulder to the door, where Bucky hovered outside the threshold. She hadn't bothered to shut the door after Romanoff had left. 

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Just now," he answered, "Do you need a hand?"

"As long as it's not too much trouble, I haven't got a clue how this is meant to fasten."

Bucky stepped into her room, giving a sweep of it as he did.

Holly had no doubt he had clocked every little detail as he did so, and she was grateful that she had already packed up her magical items. 

It wrapped around her, fastening across her shoulders and back. With Bucky's help she was able to adjust it into place so it was tight enough not to get in the way when she moved, but not too constricting so she couldn't breathe. 

"It's not as bulky as I thought it would be," she said, rolling her shoulders to ensure she had full movement. 

"It's not supposed to be. It will stop a bullet, and the material will keep you safe from knives and most shrapnel."

Holly nodded, glancing up at Bucky. He was watching her closely as he adjusted the strap on her left shoulder. 

"Are you nervous about tonight?" he asked slowly. 

"It would be a lie if I said no. But I can't allow myself to focus too much on it," she answered honestly, glancing downwards, "I give myself a set amount of time to worry before I lock it away. For the next, however many hours nothing else matters."

"Feel the fear, but do it anyway."

"Something like that," she said, her lips twitching slightly. "I've been in so many situations where my life is in danger that I've grown a little desensitised to it."

She wetted her lip absently. Bucky stayed quiet as she carried on.

"The nervous is always about the people I'm with, in making sure I do everything in my power to bring them back home alive. Even when I know how good they are themselves, I need to do everything in my power to bring them back home."

She paused for a moment, her thoughts running away with her, "The last time I was with a team I failed to do that. And everyone else paid the price."

Bucky's fingers touched her chin, lifting it up until their gazes met. 

Understanding shone in his eyes.

"That wasn't your fault. You couldn't have predicted what happened."

Holly swallowed the lump in her throat. 

He didn't even know the full details of what had happened, and he was so sure she wasn't to blame. 

He continued, "That's the problem with surviving. The doubts, the 'what if I had done that differently?' or 'would that have made a difference?' you end up with the weight of the ghosts of everyone you've ever left behind riding your shoulders."

"I have a lot of ghosts," Holly admitted. 

"Then I guess we are both haunted," he said softly. 

"I'll call the exorcist."

"I thought it was Ghostbusters you needed to call?"

Holly smiled slightly, "Really, that is a film you have caught up on?"

Bucky snorted, "They have film nights at least once a month, if not more, the first couple of months were...hellish. I couldn't remember who I was or even why I had shown up here, but sometimes watching the films I knew I hadn't seen, hadn't forgotten helped. Gave me something else to focus on. It still does."

"Baby steps."

"Baby steps," he admitted, his eyes never leaving hers. 

In the grand scheme of things, nine months wasn't a long time to heal. Bucky seemed to be doing well, from what she could see, but she knew he still had a long way to go. 

Both of them fell silent, and Holly was aware his fingers were still brushing her chin. 

She took a step back, coughing slightly, "I should finish getting ready."

"We are meeting in the War Room in ten minutes," Bucky confirmed, she couldn't quite read his eyes and the bonds were still between them. 

"I will be there."

He took a step back, pausing in his stride as he looked at her again. 

"You ever going to tell me about those dangerous situations that have made you desensitised to when your life is in danger?" he asked, an eyebrow half raised.

She gave him a tight smile, "Not unless there is lots of alcohol involved, and even then, I make no promises."

He huffed in response, shaking his head and muttered something under his breath that Holly couldn't quite make out; though she was pretty sure she heard her name and Steve's lumbered together in some way.

Pushing it out of her mind, Holly picked up her Auror Utility belt and put it on.

The charms activated as soon as she fastened it blending seamlessly with the colours of her tactical gear. Hidden in plain sight, barely weighing a thing thanks to magic and storing more items than she would be able to fit in the muggle one. 

Satisfied, she started loading the rest of her gear.

The utility belt Natasha gave her fitted at her waist, just below her wizard one. She clipped the leg holsters around each leg and carefully loaded the two I.C.E.Rs that had been designated hers, along with extra capsules of the chemical compound that made people sleep, followed with already loaded magazines. 

Zip tags, small stunners courtesy of Stark, along with a few other gadgets slotted into place. 

Preferring her own blades, Holly had already had them authorised by Hill for use, and she tucked two of them into sleeves at the back of her Wizard belt, easy reach, along with two on each rest and two in each boot. 

Overkill, perhaps, but Holly wanted to ensure she was as armed as she could be and a small part of her had grown fond in the last few years of bladed weapons. 

They still didn't beat the comfort her wand had once it was in her hands, but she found them comforting. 

She wasn't entirely sure what that said about her, and if she was honest, it wasn't something she wanted to pick at too much. 

In fact, it firmly went in the box of things 'not to think about' under the layers of ice, just for added precaution. 

Holly used the precious minutes she was in the lift, to slip even further into that part of her that was all battle, blood, death and violence. 

Steeling her spine as ice and fire spread through her veins.

Her Auror mask in place by the time she was stepping into the War Room.

* * *

Madoc shifted on his feet.

It was the second time he had visited the Avengers Tower since his Commander had deemed it necessary to team up with them, and while he had spent many years amongst the No-Maj world, there was something about the Tower that made him uncomfortable. 

He had no doubt that it was the sheer amount of technology that seemed to pulse and beat to its own tune within its walls that made him uncomfortable, nor did he doubt it was the feeling of being watched by an intelligence that had no actual body and yet seemed to control everything. 

The Wizarding World always warned against such creations and the dangers that lurked with them.

Though he supposed tonight it wasn't just the Tower that was making him uncomfortable, nor the tasks that lay before him and the fact he had still not yet reported his involvement with the Avengers to his Captain. 

Nor had he breathed a word about Holly Potter for the last week. 

Madoc was still no closer to discovering the truth of why she was here, the small bits she had managed to give him had mentioned one word and one word only. 

Hydra. 

It only brought more questions than any actual answers, but still, he held his tongue, trusted his instincts and in turn, trusted Potter. 

He just couldn't quite understand why. 

No, Madoc realised that the real reason he was uncomfortable was the 6ft4 Asgardian standing on the opposite side of Captain America. 

It was taking all of his will not to stare at him, not to give himself away and not to let his magic leak through. 

His eyes darted to the door as Potter walked into the War Room. 

He watched as she glanced around, meeting his gaze briefly before moving on. 

She dressed the part.

Matching the Black Widow and the two other female agents that were in the room.

If he didn't know better, Madoc would have considered her a No-Maj has she stood next to two large men.

But he did know better. 

Potter's face was unreadable, cold, not like ice, but something far colder. 

Her eyes hard and yet he could see the shine of magic glistening in them, power swirling around her like a cloak. 

He wondered if she realised it. 

Realised that she was a maelstrom of swirling power that made the hair on his neck stand to attention and his magic reaching out to join in. 

That being in her presence right now was like standing next to the sun, he wanted to take a step closer, to feel the warmth but knew if he did he would be burn and he wouldn't even care. 

It was in that moment Madoc could understand why dark witches and wizards feared her. 

Her whole persona radiated angry dragon, all claws, teeth and fire. 

Potter was a predator, dangerous. 

The poor No-Majs in the room couldn't feel the magic the same way he could, but they could feel something and from the side glances they threw her way and the shifting in their seats they could sense the impending doom without even realising it. 

That basic human instinct that recognised danger even if it couldn't remember why it recognised it. 

Potter was ready to do battle, and he almost pitied the poor bastards that crossed paths with her tonight. 

If they were foolish enough to try, Madoc doubted they would get back up again.

He crossed his arms ignoring the moth to the flame mentality that seemed to have overridden his common sense in the swirling range of Potter's magic, and focused on a single spot in the far wall.

Madoc needed to be fully in control of his magic, to be aware of his actions, needed to focus. 

Not wrapped up in the thrall of magic that was powerful enough his own was practically purring and basking being near it. 

He darted a glance towards Thor, who didn't seem to have appeared to notice the swirl of magic that surrounded Potter or if he did, he was staying silent about it. 

Potter was one of the last few stragglers to arrive, and as soon as Clint Barton stepped into the War Room, Captain America stood, taking everyone's attention. 

"We have two objectives tonight. The first and most important is confiscating the Chitauri weapons before they hit the streets of New York. The second is to bring in any Hydra Agents we can alive, so we can discover where they are in the city, and what they are planning."

Madoc knew the bare bones of the plan. The Avengers hadn't wanted to divulge the full plan until the night, to minimise the risk of the information falling into enemy hands. 

Something Madoc could understand, even if it made him and his fellow detectives' jobs harder. 

The Commander had given him command on the ground tonight while he liaised with other departments should the need arise for more back up. 

Madoc hoped it wouldn't come to that, hoped that it wouldn't be an all-out war on his streets. 

They didn't have the same resources that the Avengers had; they couldn't always spring into action at a moment's notice, and they wouldn't be able to throw resources at it should this Opp go south. 

"There are two locations so we will be splitting up into two teams," Captain America continued. As he spoke, images enlarged on the large screen to the side of him. 

"Site one consists of warehouses, container terminals, piers and rail yard. Natasha is the Team Leader and Detective Graves will be directing his people. This is their area; they know it better than we do. Graves's people will be monitoring the situation on the outskirts, ensuring that all entrances and exits are covered."

That was something Madoc had known. His Commander had already prepared him and the rest of the team.

As Madoc focused on the room, he could see that they were already divided into the two teams, with each person standing or sitting on their appropriate side.

Madoc could admit he didn't know how they worked out who would go where, but he was surprised that Captain America wasn't leading the team at the largest location. 

Potter he noted would be at Site 2 a large Container Terminal, along with four other agents and four Avengers. 

Madoc listened as Captain America and in turn, Romanoff when she took to lay out the finer details of the plan. 

Then it was his turn and everyone's attention shifted to him.

Madoc tried to remember how to breathe as he indicated on the map of the site where each of his detectives would be, along with specific locations on the site and what they would expect to find there. 

Before he even realised it, the briefing had finished, and his fellow detectives were moving out. 

Potter nodded her head and wished him good luck as he passed her which he returned in kind before he was following behind the rest and making his way towards his car. 

Madoc couldn't shake the feeling that it was going to be a long night.

* * *

The silence stretched out in the van.

Each one of them gathering their thoughts as they mentally prepared themselves for what was to come. 

Sam had been on enough missions for him to recognise the silence for what it was. 

It was why he took the opportunity to observe Holly. Concern about her wellbeing, considering she was a civilian and they were for a better term leading her into battle.

He expected to see jittery nerves; he expected to see wandering eyes or an attempt to imitate the others that by all accounts had better training and more experiencing. 

He did not expect to see perfect stillness. 

He did not expect to see a calm serenity as she silently sat between Tank and Bucky. 

He did not expect to see the look in her eyes.

It was the eyes that gave you away.

At least in Sam's opinion. 

The eyes were the window into the soul.

Even after meeting the likes of Natasha, Clint, Maria, Fury and Tony, some of the best he had ever seen at masking their emotions they never quite managed to make their eyes lie for them. They would hold for a while, but eventually, something slipped through. 

They were good, really good, but still hadn't quite managed to hide their eyes completely. 

Maybe, just maybe Bucky was able to get his eyes to lie for him, but that was more down to the fact that it was rare to see his eyes showing anything but the stone-cold hard gaze he gave the world. Occasionally a twinkle of amusement would appear, or a spark of something, but mostly his eyes was just cold, haunted and lost.

The eyes always gave them away.

Holly was no different. 

He had seen various things in Holly's eyes in the short time he had known her. 

They sparkled with a playful glint to them as she bantered and smiled. 

There was wildness and a light in her eyes that Sam couldn't even begin to understand and he doubted he ever would. 

He had seen a woman too old before her time - jaded. All innocence, all faith in humanity lost. And it fitted with the scars he had seen yesterday littering her arms, shoulders, neck and back, with the description of the panic attack that Bucky had given him.

It fitted with the assumption that Holly's past was an ugly, violent nightmare.

Holly was an injured, lost soul and desperately trying to pretend she was okay. That everything was fine and nobody needed to worry, except Sam was worried. Even if he didn't really know her that well if she hadn't worked for the Avengers that long he was concerned. A worry that transcended the fact that she had the soulmarks of Steve and Bucky etched into her skin, he would be worried. 

He was worried about Holly, for Holly's sake. 

If Holly had walked into one of his meetings at the VA alarm bells would be ringing in his head.

She was good at hiding it, but she wasn't perfect, not by a long shot.

Tonight though, she had dead eyes. 

Cold and empty. 

Death and destruction in her to green, endless eyes that seemed to carry the weight of things he couldn't possibly begin to understand and was far more ancient than either of them. He sees a predator, someone, who is deadly and yet broken and in pain. But even beyond that, he sees something else entirely, an almost golden glow that seems to spark with the wonder and beauty of the universe that Sam can only say brought a sense of serenity to him. 

But that wasn't possible.

It brought more questions than it did answers.

It made him pay attention to the other details. 

The perfect stillness she held herself in, the way she had simply accepted the weight of her weapons at her side as if she was used to carrying weapons. The way she wasn't fidgeting like some of the others, others that Sam would have expected not to with their training. 

She was a soldier. 

He could see that now.

Holly had seen death; she had walked hand in hand with war.

The van drew to a stop and the two agents closest to the door slid it open and got it out, their weapons were drawn as they did the necessary sweep, signalling it was safe to leave the van. 

A third agent moved, closely followed by Tank and Holly, before Bucky and he exited. Steve and Thor were already outside, each of them suited up, and scanning the area. 

They had approached the Containment Terminal at its exit and would be entering through two metal gates. 

Both Bucky and himself would be moving to the rooftops to give cover to the others, while Steve and Thor made their way towards the water and where they loaded the containers. 

Holly, Tank and the others would be moving through the maze of containers inwards. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood to attention and Sam had a horrible feeling that eyes were watching them, yet even with his combat goggles, he was unable to see any movement that would back that feeling. 

"Alright, listen up everyone, we have our objective," Steve started, looking at all of them in turn, "If there are weapons here, they don't leave the Terminal to be sold on the streets, if we can take any Hydra Agents then that's what we will do. Keep your eyes open, stay in communication and stay safe."

They all nodded their understanding. 

"Alright then, let's move out. Tank, Daniels take point, move to the gate. We will wait for confirmation from Wilson and Barnes that they are in position until we move forward."

Tank and Daniels took the front, weapons out and slowly moved forward. Holly followed closely, before the final two agents moved forward, leaving Thor and Steve to bring up the rear. 

Steve gave both Bucky and him a nod, and together the two of them moved out. 

"Don't drop me, birdbrain," Bucky warned him. 

"Don't tempt me," Sam sniped back before his wings extended and the jetpack sparked to life. 

Gripping Bucky's underarms he pushed them both into the air until they reached the desired building Bucky had claimed as his own. 

Sam dropped Bucky off, before moving to his own spot, enjoying the few seconds he had in the air, before bringing himself to a stop and perched himself on the edge of the building. 

He scanned the area. 

The combat goggles allowing him telescopic and microscopic vision. 

He gave a second sweep of the area before he was satisfied that he could detect no movement.

"You're good to go, Cap," Sam confirmed. 

Seconds later, Bucky confirmed from his position that all was clear. 

He watched Steve and Thor move forward first, the others following behind them, before branching out singly down the many paths the Containment Terminal offered.

* * *

Holly crept forward. 

Pressing herself against a metal shipping container, using it to blend even further into the shadows as much as she could as well as using it as a guide as to when to stop. 

She scanned every shadow, every gloomy corner with every step she took. 

Her heartbeat a soothing rhythm, her breathing calm and steady as she focused on her task. 

She paused every so often, listened to the confirmation over the Comms from the others that they had yet to find anything before moving forward once again.

"I'm at container 282, all clear so far," she whispered over the Comms, using the numbers on each side to mark her progress. Holly waited the few precious seconds needed while she carefully glanced around the corner of the container. 

"You're clear in both directions, Potter," Bucky confirmed.

"Affirmative."

Holly took a step forward, pushing around the container and continuing on her path.

She, along with Tank and three others were currently moving inwards sweeping the ground for any sign of Hydra agents, the shipment or potential buyers. Bucky and Sam guiding them the best they could while still covering Steve and Thor's asses who were moving their own path towards the water and the heart of the Terminal.

It was slow going, and Holly wasn't sure whether she should feel grateful that they had so far not come across anyone at the location. 

Or that there was no sign of the weapons. 

Pressing onwards, she cleared another four paths, communicating briefly over the Comms but otherwise staying silent, while she worked. 

The Container Terminal was a maze of containers, ranging from two high to four. 

Holly knew in comparison to some of the other Terminals they could have been searching this was a relatively small one, but it was still a large amount of ground to cover. 

It set her teeth on edge. 

She felt exposed, despite the fact the containers towered over her. 

Even with Bucky and Sam covering from high, they still had blind spots, and couldn't see anyone hidden between the containers. Those on the ground were equally blind to any surprises lying in wait. 

It was the perfect place to set up an ambush, which was probably why they had chosen it as a possible shipment location. 

Holly drew to a stop at the end of a container, and waited. 

The seconds ticked by and her stomach knotted and still she didn't reach out over the Comms. 

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced in both directions, ensuring the shadows blended around her. 

Something didn't feel right. 

The hair on the back of her neck was stood to attention. 

"I'm at container 320," she whispered.

Her heart took a beat, and then another. 

Holly frowned. 

Opened her mouth to repeat, before the sound of Bucky's voice cut across her. 

"All clear."

"Are the others okay?" she asked. 

"They are keeping in communication, and so far haven't seen any sign of anything."

Holly hesitated. 

"Something doesn't feel right."

"You aren't the only one getting that impression."

Holly nodded to herself, before continuing forward.

Darting across the open space into another section of towering containers.

Cold slithered across her shoulders, down the length of her spine to her stomach. As if she had just had ice-cold water thrown over her. 

Holly shivered frowning as she caught the faintest of sounds. 

Turning, she glanced in the direction she had just come from, her eyes narrowing as she let the seconds tick by. 

Nothing. 

Holly turned on her heel, continuing forward. 

Pausing as she caught the sound for a second time. 

Without thinking about it, she slipped the Comms out of her ear, let it dangle down and strained her ears to truly listen as she carried on the pretence of moving. 

Darting her gaze behind her every so often. 

The sound followed her.

It was behind her, holding back, pausing when she did, moving when she did.

Holly glanced over her shoulder, nobody was behind her, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that there was. 

It left one option, at least in her opinion. 

A witch or wizard had entered the playing field, and they were currently following her. 

She moved forward a little further, taking her time, all the while listening. 

Now that she was focusing on the possibilities of a magical problem, Holly was able to distinguish what the sound was. 

Somebody had forgotten to silence their shoes.

It was ironic really; such a simple thing would give them away. 

Holly wasn't sure if it was a rookie mistake or arrogance, though if she was going to place a bet, she would put her money on arrogance. 

If she was a muggle, it wouldn't have mattered. 

But she wasn't, and that put the advantage in her court. 

Sort of. 

Holly kept her pace steady. 

Her Auror mask hardening around her as she prepared for battle with a witch or wizard because there was no mistake it was a witch or wizard that was currently following her. 

Her wand slipped out of the wand holster, remaining out of sight beneath the sleeve of her top. 

She kept as close to the container as she could, following it to the end and around the corner. 

As soon as she was out of sight, she non-verbally cast a Disillusionment Charm and Silencing charm and waited. 

Counting the beats of her heart in her head. 

Her eyes scanning her environment around her. 

Neither Bucky nor Sam would be able to see her from where she was, and as long as she was quick and efficient, she would be able to take care of the Witch or Wizard quickly with minimal fuss. 

She wouldn't reveal magic to the others. 

A container's doors lay half-open directly in front of her, if she could manoeuvre them into position, she would be able to hide them in the container until she could hand them over to Graves to deal with.

The last thing she wanted was to bring MACUSAs attention onto her. 

Holly wanted to avoid that for as long as possible. 

The sound of the shoes drew level with her and then moved two or three steps forward. 

Even knowing that they were there, she couldn't see them, which meant that she would need to end whatever spell they were using to conceal them if she wanted to be on target.

She couldn't afford to make a mistake. 

Holly slipped through her icy shields, reached for the swirling vortex of power that seemed to live at the heart of her. 

Fire and ice.

Shadows and darkness.

Power rippled across her skin as she reached, letting only a trickle through the crack of her shields. 

Stretching her senses outward. 

The shadows stirred and reached.

The pulsing beat of life glowed in front of her, standing out in the darkness that surrounded them. 

Holly could make out their figure, a dimmer red light attempting to mask them. 

Disillusionment Charm.

_Kill,_ they purred.

_No._

The voice was always there, whenever she let a little power trickle through, whenever she reached further. A door had been unlocked deep inside of her and Holly wasn't sure she could ever close it. But with that power came other things, things Holly didn't want to think about. 

Though she couldn't deny the benefits either, like feeling and sensing the lives of those around her, like sensing and tasting death when it was on the air. 

Or seeing the magic in a way she had never been able to do before. 

At least it wasn't an invisibility spell. 

They were far harder to break. 

Holly raised her wand. 

Waited for them to move a few steps further in front, before springing into action.

Non-verbally she cast, the Counter Spell, their Disillusionment Charm dissolving around them. Before they had a chance to react, she followed through with the Disarming Charm, Silencing Charm. 

Another quick flurry of wand movements and non-verbal spells had her opponent bound tight, stuck to the inside of the walls of the container while she lit the place up. 

Her eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of him. 

Large brown eyes were wide with surprise and furry as they glared at her. 

Shaggy brown hair framed his youthful face, and if Holly was going to hazard a guess, he couldn't be much older than twenty. 

Twenty-three at a push, but she was confident no older. 

Cancelling the Silencing spell on him, to allow him to answer her questions, she met his gaze with her own and gave him her best, _'I'm not impressed_' look.

"What is your name?"

He hissed at her. 

Holly cocked an eyebrow at him. 

She didn't have time to waste, not if there were other Witches and Wizards out on the field. 

As good as the others were if they couldn't see their enemy, the odds would be against them. 

Especially when that enemy had magic on their side.

"Consider this your one chance. You can answer my questions, or I can take the answers from your mind."

He snarled something at her that she couldn't quite make out. 

Shoving the wriggling worming guilt that was currently burrowing its way into her stomach, Holly moved forward, gripped his hair in her hands and pulled his head up, so their eyes connected. 

She dove deep into the Wizard's mind, meeting little resistance. Out of the two of them, she had the stronger will, the determination and sense of urgency driving her forward. 

His name was Daniel Jennings, and he was a muggle-born wizard and had been taken by Hydra twelve years ago. Jennings saw it more of a liberation than a kidnapping. He had survived the experiments that Holly knew Hydra performed on the children; he was one of the stronger ones.

Her stomach twisted and churned as she witnessed his training, and the startling revelation that Hydra was working with a group of Witches and Wizards and not on their own, and it appeared to be for far longer than she had anticipated. 

Jennings wasn't one of the lost children, not anymore, he was fully converted, he was loyal, Jennings believed in the cause though he worked more with the group of witches and wizards. A group Jennings was fighting her tooth and nail to keep hidden, he did end up revealing that there were currently ten witches and wizards at each location. 

Hidden beneath Disillusionment charms ready and waiting for the signal to take out the Avengers.

Along with Hydra Agents.

As were two large shipments of the weapons. 

"Fuck!" Holly snapped as she pulled back.

It was a trap. 

It was a goddamn fucking trap. 

Jennings smirked at her. 

"How many Agents are there?" She snarled at him. 

"Enough to wipe them out. Even with a witch of their own, you aren't enough," he spat at her. 

"You have no idea who I fucking am, or what I am capable of," she warned. 

And he didn't, that much was evident when she had been in his mind. Jennings had no clue as to who she was, and that was the advantage she would need right now. 

"Doesn't matter, the Greater Good will prevail."

Holly froze, her blood running cold. 

The Greater Good. 

The Greater Good. 

Words that the Wizarding World hadn't heard spoken for over seventy years. 

Words she knew.

Gellert Grindelwald's words. 

His mantra. 

Her mind raced and whirled. 

She reached for the Comms, placing it back in her ear. 

"Captain! Sergeant! Wilson! Tank! It's a trap," she hurried, "I repeat, it's a trap. They are waiting for us."

Static sounds greeted her in return. 

The Comms were out. 

Jennings laughed. 

"You can't save them all. You can't save any of them."

Holly narrowed her eyes at him, "I would say watch me, but you aren't going to remember a goddamn thing."

She pointed her wand at him and cast the Memory Charm. If he somehow found his way back to his people before she could deliver him to Graves, then she didn't want him to tell Hydra the Avengers had a witch on their team. 

At least not yet. 

Using the I.C.E.R she fired a shot at him, knocking him out for a couple of hours. 

Holly stepped out of the container, glancing in both directions, her pulse racing. 

She needed to move quickly. 

She could hopefully cover enough ground here to deal with the witches and wizards that hid under Disillusionment Charms, though it left the other team at a disadvantage. 

Unless. 

_"Expecto Patronum!"_

The familiar silvery stag of her Patronus leapt forward. 

"Graves, witches and wizards are working with Hydra. It's a trap. It's a trap."

Focusing on Graves in her mind's eye, Holly sent her Patronus away, searching for the Wizard in question, hoping that it would reach him in time. 

The Comms were down; she had no way of warning the others that they were currently walking into a trap. 

Except she could warn Bucky and Steve. 

Opening herself to the bonds, she reached for them, sending the pulsing alarm through the bonds she shared with them both. 

_It's a trap!_

_It's a trap!_

Using the bonds to guide her to where they were, Holly pushed herself forward, not caring to be quiet as she raced towards the nearest of them. 

Casting her senses ahead of her, searching for the enemy wizards and witches. 

And any of the others.

Her mind whirling with possible ideas in how she was going to tackle this head on. 

All the while Holly ran. 

The shadows whirling around her, carrying her forward, as they stretched, searched and hunted for all that would stand in her way.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who has read, commented, bookmarked, subscribed and Kudos.  
Wow. Can I just say you guys are amazing, the response to the last chapter has left me loss for words. The response to the story overall has been amazing and I am truly awed by it.  
I cannot thank you enough. I am loving writing this story so much, the ideas are spinning and I can't wait to share the journey I am planning to take our heroes on and I hope you all enjoy it.  
I have loved writing this chapter, and I hope that I have been able to properly capture even half of what I mentally pictured as each scene unfolded and that you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.  
Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 10**

"It's cold tonight."

Madoc glanced at his assigned partner for this evening Detective Richards out of the corner of his eye. 

He didn't acknowledge the statement, it wasn't exactly like he needed to, and Richards had pointed out the obvious. 

It was cold tonight. 

Instead, he kept his eyes glued to the window overlooking two of the piers. 

He could see one of the agents doing their sweep of the area, and he followed their movements while ensuring no unpleasant surprises lay in wait. 

All the while Richards kept jabbering on. 

"Richards, check in with the others," he said softly, giving the task over to Richards, so the other man had something to do other than talk his ear off. 

Madoc couldn't blame him, he was new to the unit, and this was his first real big operation out with them. He was young and he was nervous, and disguising those nerves with talking.

Even so, Madoc wished he wouldn't talk so much. 

"Graves, the radio is static."

Madoc snapped his attention to Richards, his eyes narrowing onto the radio. 

"Are you sure it's on the right channel?"

"Yes, sir."

Madoc reached for it, checked it over for himself. It was fully charged, and Richards was right, it was on the right channel. 

One by one, he tried each of his fellow Detectives. 

Crackling greeted him.

His stomach turned to lead, and an uneasy feeling swept through him. 

Something was wrong. 

Something was seriously wrong. 

"Romanoff, come in."

Romanoff didn't respond. 

Right, so it wasn't just their radios; it was everyone. 

Possible causes, interference. 

Jamming.

Magic?

Madoc knew that if he really wanted to, he could focus his magic in such a way that it would interfere with the radios. Not a long term solution but enough for it to be a problem. 

The two never really mixed well together and one never could tell what would actually happen until it did. 

It took a lot of concentration on his part to not interfere with it more than accidental encounters. 

But why would magic be interfering here, it was far more likely for somebody to be jamming them. 

Neither option was a particularly good one at the moment. 

His years of experiences allowed him to mask his uncertainty from Richards. He wasn't alarmed yet, but there was something on the air that made him nervous. 

Something wasn't right. 

"What the hell is that?" 

Madoc glanced at Richards before looking in the direction the detective was staring in. 

Silvery light was speeding towards them, pulsing as if it had a heartbeat, before it stopped, glowing tendrils spread out until a Stag emerged from the light. 

Madoc inwardly cursed, a Patronus. 

"Graves, witches and wizards are working with Hydra. It's a trap. It's a trap."

Holly's voice echoed through the room they were standing in before the Stag disappeared taking the light with it and leaving them in darkness. 

Fuck.

"Graves?" Richards whispered, his eyes wide and looking at him and the space where the Stag had been standing. 

"Graves, what was that? What is going on?"

Madoc didn't answer; instead, he reached for his wand, turned on Richards with a grimace.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, before stunning the other man with a flick of his wrist. 

Another flick caught Richards before he fell to the ground, and instead lowered him gently. 

What had Potter been thinking off? 

But then if her message was correct, Potter thought the team needed magical backup, and he was the only one who could offer that backup.

His mind warred with itself, arguments for and against racing around. 

It was his duty as an Auror to protect the No-Majs, and if Witches and Wizards were working with Hydra, then he needed to stop them. 

Yet, doing so could reveal the Wizarding World to the Avengers and the No-Maj agents here. 

Doing nothing wasn't an option. 

He had to do something, but first, he needed to Oblivate Richards. 

The Memory Charm, while difficult was one of the first things an Auror learned to do well, it was each of their duty to oblivate a No-Maj that ended up finding out about the Wizarding World. 

Satisfied that Richards was safe and wouldn't remember the Patronus, Madoc moved to the window. 

He knew this site well enough to be able to move about unseen by the Avengers and their team. 

While keeping a lookout for Hydra was why he was here, he wouldn't engage them directly in a fight. 

The best aid he could offer was remaining unseen, dealing with witches and wizards he crossed paths with and hope that nobody saw him. 

Casting the Disillusionment Charm on himself, he Apparated out of the warehouse, a clear picture of where he wanted to go in his mind, with a pop.

* * *

The rhythmic sound of static in his ear broke the silence that stretched around him. 

Bucky let out a slow controlled breath in an attempt to loosen the tension that was currently sinking into his body. His eyes moved with an alertness that came from years of experience and the heightened senses that picked up on the slightest change in the environment around him. 

His gut twisted and turned, his skin prickled and his hands remained clenched around his sniper rifle by subconscious demand. 

The army had taught him patience. 

Hydra had honed that skill into an entirely different level. 

He remained perfectly still, body pressed to concrete and eye to the scope.

The darkness that surrounded gave him the best cover. Mother Nature made the best camouflage and Bucky had learned how to use it to his advantage. 

To work in the shadows so his prey would never see him coming. 

The steady beat of his heart giving him a way to count between check-ins. 

He had counted 330 since Holly had last checked in. 

Bucky was starting to grow concerned and was it not for the soothing calmness trickling through the bonds he would have already been moving. 

That didn't stop scenarios playing through his mind for the explanation as to _why_ she hadn't checked in again. 

The others had. 

He did a slow sweep across the terminal, looking through his night-vision scope. 

Nothing stirred, and yet unease was settling in his stomach, and the hair on the back of his neck was standing to attention. 

Bucky might not be able to trust himself, but his instincts were fine-tuned and razor-sharp when it came to this kind of work, and everything so far was telling him it was too easy. 

Hydra never made things easy. 

He took another a deep breath, frowning as his breath became visible. 

His breath hadn't been visible seconds ago. 

Biting cold licked at his face and crept under his clothes, spreading across his skin. 

A shiver ran down the length of his spine, and his fingers on his right hand seemed to have stiffened and stuck to his gun, pulling at them, pulled at the skin and a sharp icy pain burned at the tips. 

What the fuck?

Icy fingers wrapped around him like a shawl woven from snow. It pulled at his memories, tugged at his mind until all he could think about was those early days, those days with Hydra when his nerves sang and screamed and howled in pain. When the process of freezing him hadn't been quick but agonisingly slow. 

When he had clawed at the thin glass of his icy coffin in an attempt to escape as his body shut down inch by inch until all he could remember was ice in his veins and in his soul and he couldn't feel the warmth pressing against his skin. 

When all there had been was the pain.

A jolt of urgency mixed with fear twisted in his gut before flaring to life through him, as if somebody had just lit his veins on fire.

Holly's voice jarred him out of the twisted memories. 

_It's a trap, it's a trap._

Holly.

Bucky tried to move, tried to reach for his Comms, but his limbs were frozen, ice covering his body as if he was once again back in his icy coffin. 

A surge of rage roared through him. Energy pulsed in his veins and the Soldier howled, shoving himself forward until he was in control. 

Every ounce of focus and attention went into flexing his metal hand, in moving it to break the ice that covered him. 

Ice cracked. 

His arm moved. 

Cold still chilled his bones, but Bucky didn't stop to think, he moved, he pushed forward, he made his muscles work. 

Reaching for the bonds, the energy that swirled through them and the ever-burning heat that was Steve he pulled at it just enough to allow the fire to burn away the chill that had set through him. 

"Hols, come in?" he demanded, the crackle of the Comms his only answer. 

"Steve. Wilson?" He tried again. 

Static greeted him.

_Stay alert!_ The Soldier growled at him, a flood of energy surging through him.

Bucky paused, pushing back the urge to fight the Soldier for control and instead listened to what his gut was telling him. 

He was on the rooftop of a five-story building. A building he had picked because it had no easy access for another to sneak upon him. 

He was alone on the rooftop, yet part of his body was alit with energy told him differently. 

His senses prickled, and the Solider practically growled at him for his slowness and the urgency that _something_ was wrong.

But Bucky didn't need the warning. 

He knew something was wrong, because as cold as it was for January, it wasn't cold enough to freeze him in that short of time. 

Bucky glanced over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over every corner of the roof. 

There was nowhere possible for anyone to hide, and he couldn't see anyone. 

But just because he couldn't see them didn't mean they weren't there. 

He took a breath, focused on his other senses, enhanced by his own cocktail of a serum. 

It was the heartbeats he heard first. Two racing pulses that told him that whoever was on the rooftop with him were nervous. 

He could smell the cheap aftershave, or at least he presumed it was aftershave, though it carried a scent of burning to it and something Bucky couldn't name but made his nose wrinkle all the same. 

He could taste the salt of their sweat on his tongue. 

They were male, that much he could detain. 

But there was something else on the air that he could taste and smell, but for the life of him, Bucky couldn't find the words to describe what it was. 

Despite all of his other instincts telling him that there were other people on the roof, Bucky still couldn't work out where they were.

Not that Bucky had the chance to panic too much, the air crackled around him, as words he didn't understand were yelled, and orange light flared to life in the darkness on his left, speeding right towards him. 

Bucky dropped and rolled to the side, the scent of singed flesh and burnt hair filling his nose, as whatever the fuck that light was, skimmed across his shoulder. 

Pain burst to life in his arm, Bucky gritted his teeth and pushed it aside.

Now wasn't the time to think about it. 

Drawing his knives, he crouched to the ground and waited for the unknown assailants to make their move. 

To give him a clue to their whereabouts. 

He didn't wait long. 

A variety of lights flew his way, forcing him to move. 

Fiery orange 

The light hit the edge of the building behind him, it exploded. 

A thin layer of concrete dust-coated him as he shielded his head from the falling derby. 

Blue. 

Ice shot forward, speeding towards him with alarming speed and accuracy. 

Bucky jumped to the side in a roll, moving out the way less he found himself once again frozen solid. 

Red.

A net of flames formed in thin air, hurling towards him. 

Blue. 

A new wave of ice cracked along the rooftop. 

Coming from opposite sides, it was all he could do was drop, roll, dive and dodge. 

Dancing across the rooftop to a tune he didn't know. 

Every time he tried to get close, whoever the hell they were, pushed him back. 

Bucky took a gamble and threw one of his knives in the general direction the voices and lights were coming from, only for the air to shimmer a golden colour halfway across before it dropped to the floor with a clang. 

Eyes darted around, looking for an exit, he needed to get off this rooftop, and he needed to get some fucking cover. 

He was thrown backwards as purple light hit him square in the chest, throwing him to the floor.

Ropes wrapped around him, tightening the more he moved. 

He strained against them, trying and failing to loosen them. 

The bonds pulsed beneath his skin. 

A loud pop, as if somebody had just popped a bottle of champagne open, broke across the night air, forcing him to look up from where he was on the floor.

The sudden appearance of a looming hooded figure standing in front of him caught him by surprise, and all Bucky could do was stare. 

What the fuck?

Shadows appeared to float around the figure as if they were wearing a cloak made entirely out of the darkness.

They, Bucky couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, turned to look at him. 

A hood pulled up high covered their face and shadows seemed to obscure anything else on closer inspection.

Except that wasn't quite right either. 

Interwoven into the shadows appeared to be a million galaxies. 

Beautiful. 

Memorising. 

Where eyes should have been was glowing amber lights that smouldered dangerously.

The figure, because Bucky wasn't going to refer to them as the Hood, waved an arm over him, the tightening ropes vanished, and he found he could suddenly breathe.

He itched to reach for his knives, yet something made him hesitate to do so, and he didn't understand why. 

Another wave and white light shot out from their hand. 

Spinning across the rooftop until the sound of 'oomph's' echoed. 

His eyes widened in surprise as he watched the shadows in front of him bleed away to reveal two men, their own eyes widening in shock as their gazes fixed on the figure in front of him.

It didn't take them long to get over their surprise before they leapt into action. 

All Bucky could do was watch, no real clue as to what was happening or how they were doing the things they were doing, but it was clear they were enhanced.

Lights flared to life and flew across from side to side, exploding in a spray of colours, making it look like fireworks on July the 4th. 

Energy seemed to crackle across his skin and the bonds pulsed and vibrated inside of him though Bucky couldn't determine why.

Yet, he couldn't sense Holly anywhere. Just icy coldness whenever he tried to reach through the bonds to see if she was okay. 

As if she had spun her warning and then shut down so quickly he couldn't reach back. 

The other possible explanation for why he couldn't feel her, Bucky didn't want to think about. 

Despite the odds being against his guardian angel, they were holding their own. 

Quicker, more precise with their movements and their aim was almost always on the ball. 

Forcing the two men to defend themselves more than they could attack. 

Lightning cracked. 

Concrete splintered, and the building shook. 

He had no idea what they were doing, but Bucky knew he needed to get off the damn thing before it collapsed around him. 

And from the looks of it, he wasn't the only one with the same idea. 

As one, both his assailants vanished with a loud crack that reminded him of a car backfiring. 

His guardian angel, as he had no idea what to call them, turned gave him a glance over before vanishing, with a much quieter pop. 

Bucky stared in disbelief, just as the building shook again.

He pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his rifle as he did so and moved towards the fire escape. 

The cracking of concrete and brick splitting the only warning he needed. 

Not that he made it to the metal stairs. 

Sam was already sweeping down towards him. 

Bucky ran and leapt off the edge of the building just as it collapsed out from under him. 

Sam caught him, his arms gripping tightly into his own, before lowering them both to the ground. 

"What the hell was that?"

The building crumbled before their very eyes. 

"I have no idea but thank god that building was empty," Bucky answered, "But it's a trap. The Comms are down, and we have Enhanced on the field."

"Steve?"

"Steve and Holly. I can't make out where she is."

"Let's get to it then."

Sam pushed himself into the air, leaving Bucky to sprint across the road and over the fence that separated the Container Terminal. The sounds of gunfire reaching him. 

Bucky threw himself forward, pushing past the pain and focused on running towards the fight. 

He just hoped he would make it in time.

* * *

Bruce cautiously made his way through the rail yard, Tony flying above him. Every step he took was as though his skin itched and his head was threatening to split open any second. 

He understood the feeling for what it was, the Hulk wanted out, but Bruce couldn't understand why. 

There was no immediate threat to his life that Bruce could see that would cause the Hulk to react in such a way. 

_There is nothing there,_ he told the Hulk firmly.

The burning itch didn't stop it only intensified, his skin stretching as every muscle in his body tensed and seared. The stabbing pain in his head didn't ease in the slightest. 

He was fighting with the Hulk with every step he took. 

The pounding in his chest a clear indication that the Hulk was gaining ground. 

Something had spooked the Hulk. 

_Hulk, not spooked. Stupid Banner, not sense danger when danger right beside him._

Bruce stopped, his whole body tensing.

_What?_

_Stupid Banner,_ Hulk snorted at him. 

As insults went, it wasn't the first time the Hulk had called him that, nor was it the worst thing he had called him either. 

_What danger?_ He prompted, but even that was a struggle. The more attention he gave the Hulk, the more likely the Hulk would win this battle and break free. 

Bruce couldn't allow that, not when other people's lives would be in danger. He hated putting others in danger through his own carelessness. He had enough blood and in turn, lives on his hands as it was. 

_Banner putting more lives at risk now. _

"You okay there, Brucie-bear?" Tony asked.

Bruce glanced up to see him hovering just above him, clearly, him stopping hadn't gone unnoticed. 

"The Hulk wants out. He says there is danger."

"I'm inclined to believe Green, this does seem to easy at the moment. Jarvis keeps breaking up as well," Tony replied, "Can he tell what danger and from where?"

"No."

"You could always-"

"No, Tony."

It was hard to distinguish exactly what Tony was thinking or feeling when he was wearing the suit, it hid all the usual tells, not that Tony had many. But Bruce could work out from the tilt of the head that Tony wasn't going to push, for the moment. 

A strangeness in itself really, since Tony pushed and pushed and pushed. 

Bruce had yet to work out why, and he had known the man for the last two years, had worked closely with him and in turn lived within the Tower the longest. 

"I'm going to scout ahead, let me know if the Big Guy is coming out to play."

"That's not funny Tony," Bruce yelled back, not that he was positive Tony had heard him, he had already spurred the suit forward with a thrust of energy. 

Bruce shook his head, and moved forward, at a much slower pace, cautiously picking his steps. 

The Hulk continued to push and test him, but for the moment Bruce remained in control. 

Something was making the Hulk react, and he didn't like it. 

He had barely made twenty paces when a sinking sensation gripped over him, his stomach twisted and churned and an ice-cold wave rippled through him.

The harsh pressure in his chest as he struggled to get enough air to breathe, the air sucked out of his lungs as if one giant vacuum had opened up in front of him. The building desperation as his ears began to ring. 

He needed to run. 

He needed to run. 

He needed to leave. 

Except he couldn't move. 

He couldn't move a muscle. 

Bruce was aware of his brain telling him to lift a leg up, to take a step back, but his leg didn't comply. 

Instead, he just stood there as if he was rooted to the ground. 

His pulse raced, and a roar reverberated through him. 

Pain shot through his head, as the Hulk pushed and pushed and pushed until he found himself disappearing second by second.

Skin rippled and shifted, muscles snapped and ripped and healed. 

He grew and grew.

And with one breath leading into the next, he let out an almighty roar, that didn't just echo in his mind but ripped through the night air...

... 

...Stupid Banner, Hulk snorted, Could not sense danger until right in danger. 

Hulk better than Banner.

His skin crawled and knots and vines twisted around him in dark slimy colours. He could feel them creeping up his legs. 

He narrowed his eyes, grabbed hold of them. They bit into his hands, piercing his skin, Hulk let out a roar of outrage and pulled and pulled. Ripping them up until they fell dead and shrivelled in his hands. 

He threw them away in disgust, before letting out another roar and launched himself forward. 

Landing on one of the metal containers, denting the roof as he landed. 

Shadows below him moved, drawing closer and closer together and bright sparkly light flew towards him. 

Hulk swatted at them, except they burned and blistered his skin. 

Hulk had never encountered something before that could hurt him. Not men with bullets, not explosions, but these pretty lights cut and burned. 

He let out another roar and leapt towards the shadows, but the shadows fled.

"What you doing Big Guy?" Metal Man greeted as he hovered above him. 

"Hulk smash shadows."

"Shadows? You can't smash shadows," Metal Man said slowly. 

"Metal man just as stupid as Banner."

"I'm just going to pretend you didn't mean that Big Guy."

He huffed and turned his back to look back at the shadows. 

They were waiting, Hulk could smell them. 

Voices shouted as one, words he could not understand.

Greens, blues and reds flickered to life and spiralled towards him and Metal Man. 

He jumped. 

Aware of Metal Man loudly muttering as he dodged and ducked. 

"Son of a bitch!"

Hulk landed with a bang, ground cracking under him.

"I take it back, Hulk smash shadows, or whatever the hell is going on."

Hulk did not need Metal Man's permission. With relative ease, he picked up one of the containers, swung it around and let it fly in the direction that the lights came from. 

Loud cracks and pops echoed, before repeating a second time behind him. 

More words and more colours danced through the air, one after the other. Metal Man fired back with his own golden blasts of energy, repelling some of the pretty lights away from him. 

"Damn it! Something is interfering with the Comms, I can't communicate with anyone."

Hulk ignored him. 

It was hard to smash things he could not see, that kept moving, circling around them. 

Loud cracks and pops the only indication to gage when they were moving. 

Blue light hit his chest, knocking him off his feet with more force than he had felt before.

He landed with a thud, wincing as the air seemed to force its way out of his lungs. 

The earth shifted beneath, crumbling below him.

Hulk tried to push himself to his feet, but found himself sinking, unable to push off anything to throw himself out of the growing pit below him. 

Metal rails slithered to life, speeding towards him, wrapping around him, tighter and tighter and tighter. 

Metal man blasted at the rails, but they quickly shot up in the air towards him, and barely managed to move out of their way, zooming around as they followed behind him. 

He roared, straining against the metal rails and sinking ground, until the ground started to shift over him, covering him and burying him alive, he let out one final roar, and dirt filled his mouth.

The darkness surrounded him, pulling him down until all he could think was pain and fear.

* * *

Holly landed behind one of the containers with a soft thud and blood roaring in her ears before she hurled herself forward through the twists and turns of the container terminal. 

Apparating without a clear image in mind was dangerous and foolish, and she didn't know the Container Terminal well enough to risk it more than once or twice, but the risk of not doing it was equally high. 

She had barely made it to Bucky in time as it was and that was with apparating to the roof he was on. 

Shadows wrapped around her as if she was wearing a cloak, and the Obscurial Charm she had used concealed her face from prying eyes.

Well-honed reflexes allowed her to take the corners without running into metal, the sound of gunshots echoed through the night air, she pushed herself harder, sprinting towards whoever was firing those weapons, her lungs nearly shattering. She pushed the pain away, willing strength and speed into her legs and carried on.

_Come on, faster,_ she told herself with each step, each pound of her heart. _Faster, Potter, faster._

The gunshots were getting louder, and as she rounded one final corner, she could hear the familiar voice of Tank, calling for help. 

But the radios were down, and no one could hear but her and whoever he was firing against. 

Holly didn't pause or stop, she kept running, straight into the clearing, her sense stretching and the pulsing beats of life she could sense told her exactly where the concealed witches and wizards were located.

She drew to a stop in front of Tank, a flick and a twist of her wand, the Shield Charm sprung to life around her and Tank, just as two curses flung towards him.

Her Shield glowed as the curses hit it and bounced off. 

Holly didn't give her opponents a chance to recover from their surprise. She didn't pay attention to Tank who was cursing in his own way, pointing his gun at her direction. 

She was already moving, a turn here, a flick there, moving from one non-verbal spell to the next.

The Disillusionment Charm melted away from the witch and wizard, and her Multi-shot jinx created multiple semi-omnidirectional blasts of pure kinetic magic, hitting both the witch and wizard square in the chest, throwing them back into the air. 

Brute force was all well and good, but Holly knew she needed to be smart to win this and not draw more attention to her presence here than necessary. 

MACUSA showing up was the last thing she needed - at least while she was in the vicinity. 

Holly parried away a curse flying her way while dodging the second spell. 

She fired off her own rapidly, starting with the Knee-Reversal Hex, and the Orbis Jinx.

The former hitting only the wizard, a sickening crunch of bones twisting cut through the air closely followed by a piercing scream. His knees twisted and turned until they were facing the opposite way. The Wizard didn't have a chance to cancel the spell before the ground sucked him down, opening faster than a blink of an eye and pulling him under. 

The remaining opponent, the witch, had managed to narrowly avoid the same fate as the wizard, the woman's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of Holly.

Not that she could see her, all she would be able to see was a hooded figure surrounded by shadows. 

Her pulse was racing, from the adrenaline, yet despite everything that was going around her, Holly was calm. 

She was always calm in the heat of the moment, in the middle of the swirling frantic chaos of a fight or battle. 

But then there was something about it that Holly enjoyed. 

Made her feel alive. 

And that wasn't something she liked to think about, but a fight, a duel, a battle made her feel alive. 

She wasn't sure why it surprised her, after all, she brought death wherever she walked, and held hands with war more often or not. 

Think. 

Focus. 

As one they moved, Holly noted the details about the witch that she could use to her advantage. 

She was left-handed and seemed to be shielding her right arm.

Injured?

Weaker?

Holly cast her Shield Charm as curses flew her way; she recognised some of them, but not all of them.

The witch's clothing wasn't made out of dragon hide so wouldn't have the same resistance to magic, not that Holly could say hers did either. 

The witch in front of her had not yet learnt to cast non-verbally and was practically screaming out her curses. 

It gave Holly an advantage she needed to use. 

Even as quick as she was, it didn't stop her from getting hit by the yellowish coloured Searing Jinx, her arm burning and blistering under her clothes, the material melting around her. 

Damn it, fuck. 

She pushed down the nausea that bubbled in her stomach, pushed away the wave of pain that made her feel lightheaded and dropped to the floor as a second curse hurled her way.

Think, think.

Casting the Smokescreen spell, she blended into the shadows, moving closer to the witch. Her senses leading her even if she couldn't see, Holly could see the glowing golden outline that shone in her mind even with her eyes closed. 

A left turn and flick of the Elder wand in her hand, and the smoke around her reformed and solidified in seconds to become a swarm of pursing daggers. 

A wave of her wand and the daggers flew in the direction of the witch, too many to count, and too many for her to block. 

The woman managed to knock some away, but a few slipped through flying true and hitting her in the arms, legs and shoulders. 

The woman hissed at her, Holly cast the Disarming Charm, hitting the witch. Holly caught the wand and tucked it into her pocket.

Before flicking her wand again, fiery red ropes shot out of her wand, speeding towards her opponent, missing her by inches as the woman disapparated in retreat. 

Leaving her companion still stuck in the ground, howling in pain. 

Never leave a man behind was clearly not a motto they followed. 

Holly sent another Disarming Charm towards the wizard; she caught his wand and knocked him unconscious, using the Stunning Charm. 

He wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry. Another Obliviating Charm later and he wouldn't remember much detail either; of course she couldn't do anything about those who made a hasty retreat.

Holly turned towards Tank; his unconscious form slumped against one of the containers. Moving quickly towards him, Holly was able to determine that he was still alive, unconscious but breathing. 

Casting a healing charm on him, she watched the cut on his forehead knit itself back together, closing in seconds and the red swelling reducing almost instantly. He would still need to get himself checked over, but for the moment, he wasn't in any immediate danger. 

Holly cast a ward over him, giving him protection from those who would cause him harm, until either she could return, he woke up or allies found him before pushing herself to her feet and ran in the opposite direction. 

She had faced five Hydra magic users, two were incapacitated, and three had retreated, or regrouped with the others.

It meant she would be facing five to eight magic users and, Merlin knew how many Hydra Agents. 

Holly was surprised she had only encountered magic users so far, but then, in theory, they should have been able to pick them off one by one, leaving the core forces attention on the most significant threat. 

The Wizards that had been targeting Bucky hadn't been using spells to actually cause lasting damage, but instead used spells to capture him. 

It meant, at least in Holly's mind, that the main bulk of everybody would be taking out Steve and Thor. 

The bonds tugged, and Holly found herself following the direction of the tug, using it to guide her to where Steve and Thor were. 

She had no idea if the others were alive, or how they were faring but she prayed to whichever gods were listening that luck was on her side tonight and that she could get to them in time. 

It took her five minutes to reach them, or at least reach their general vicinity.

Holly drew herself to a stop, dropping to her knees and pulling the shadows tighter around her, for her to stay out of sight while she planned out her next move. 

She could see Steve and Thor in the centre of the clearing, surrounded by men dressed in black, all of them armed, weapons raised and pointing at the two of them.

Thirty-forty Hydra agents, but that was only a rough count. 

A closer look allowed her to feel out roughly where the locations of the Hydra magic users were. 

Hydra had planned it out perfectly, had positioned themselves in such a way that the odds were stacked in their favour.

Holly ducked back behind the container, resting her head against the side. 

She needed to think. 

She needed a plan. 

Possible scenarios spun in her head. 

She could hear Steve talking.

Could hear one of the Hydra Agents respond. 

The back and forth snide comments a clear indicator there was a personal connection somewhere. 

Glancing around to see if there was anything she could use. Holly's eyes stopped on one of the Containers, an idea taking shape as a slow smile crept along her face. 

That could work. 

She pushed herself to her feet, raised her wand, and gathered her magic as she focused on the spell she needed. 

The container shuddered. 

Vibrated. 

Peeled, and moved, swirling and coiling as it shrunk, twisted and merged its shape. 

It wasn't an actual transfiguration, but it was a transfiguration of sorts, mixed in with charm work resulting in one giant metal animal. 

Holly let her gaze slowly move upwards until she met three pairs of eyes, giant mouths and razor-sharp teeth. 

Standing as tall as Fluffy had, she had taken inspiration from the three-headed dog. 

Only hers was metal. 

She took a step forward and the dog backed up, waiting for her direction. 

Another flick of her wand, this time over herself she cast the Doppelganger Curse, her skin seemed to rip in two, the searing, burning pain certainly gave her the impression she was. 

Two hands pushed forward, followed by an upper body, an extra head, and then a copy of herself stepped out of her skin. 

Holly found it strange staring at green eyes she knew were her own. 

Even stranger when she smiled and the Doppelganger smiled back at her. 

Maybe, just maybe this would work.

* * *

Steve paused.

His ears pricked. 

Before continuing forward, it had taken them longer than he thought it would to reach the water. 

And despite what the Intel had suggested, no boat was in sight. 

Something didn't add up. 

Didn't sit well with him. 

Every part of him was hyperaware and alert, as his eyes scanned the area. 

Water on one side. 

Containers on the other. 

A large enough space to move without interference, yet there was no movement, no sound, no whisper of anything. 

Unease wrapped itself around him, and Steve found himself clenching and unclenching his fist. 

Had Nat's source lied to them?

Was there really only one location and not two?

Had he made the wrong call?

Worry gnawed at his bones, and Steve couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, yet he couldn't for the life of him pinpoint what it was. 

Every nerve ending was alit with anticipation as if his whole body was picking up on something he couldn't sense and preparing itself. 

"There is something on the air tonight, something I cannot place," Thor said softly. 

Steve glanced at the Asgardian. Thor was staring across the water, a distant look in his eyes, and crease in his brow. 

"There is no sign of them as of yet," Steve answered quietly, "We may have been played."

He reached for the Comms, checking in with the others. 

Silence greeted him. 

Thorns twisted around him tightly, his stomach hardening as the first trickle of doubt crept along the length of his spine. 

"Bucky."

He waited precious seconds for a response. 

"Thor, something is jamming the Comms," he warned. His gaze darted to every shadow, every corner as he did a sweep of the area. 

Thor tensed next to him, his grip tightening on the handle of his hammer. 

Steve reached for his shield at his back. 

A wave of heat hit him full force. 

_It's a trap. It's a trap._

The bond between Holly and him erupted to life. 

"Thor, it's a trap."

No sooner had the words left his mouth, the air around them shimmered as if it was melting away and Hydra Agents emerged from the shadows, guns raised and pointing towards the two of them. 

Steve tensed. 

They had been there all the time, cloaked.

But only the Helicarrier had that kind of technology. 

A thick heavy tension lay heavy on the air, neither side daring to move as they each eyed the other up. 

Hydra wasn't kidding around.

There were at least forty agents, if not more. 

Armed to the teeth and over half of them had the Chitauri weapons.

Tony had managed to develop a short term solution, much like Natasha's Spider Bites, it let out a small pulse of energy that would short circuit the weapons. 

Problem was, you had to be up close and personal to get the devices on each weapon.

The time scale hadn't allowed him to come up with anything that would stop them all without blowing the team up with them. 

A man stepped forward. 

Steve's eyes narrowed as he locked his attention onto him. 

Rumlow. 

"Thor, it's a trap," Rumlow mimicked with a chuckle. 

"You know Cap, I have to say I'm surprised, you fell for it, and how you guessed it. My guys were good at staying quiet until we had you right where we wanted you."

"There was never any weapons deal?" Steve said, refusing to acknowledge the question. The last thing any of them needed was Hydra finding out about Holly. 

"Oh, no there was, just been and done. There is now more than enough Chitauri weapons on the streets to cause a bloodbath," Rumlow replied, his eyes glinting with amusement, "You just won't be around to see it." 

Steve shared a look with Thor, the Asgardian giving him a single nod, before turning his attention back onto Rumlow. His mind spinning for solutions that would get them both out of this. 

The odds weren't in their favour, but they had faced worse odds than this before. 

His tightened his grip on his shield, a plan slowly sliding into place. 

It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot. 

Rumlow chuckled, "That mind of yours is already racing for a way out. It's not going to happen. I have people picking off your people one by one. Your boy Barnes will be back where he belongs by the end of the night."

Hot burning rage bubbled in his stomach, rising higher and higher with every breath he took. A volcano explosion erupted through him, pouring molten lava into his veins. 

Steve bit back the bitter taste in his mouth, swallowed down the inferno in his throat, forcing it into more useful avenues than simply exploding. 

He. Would. Not. Let. Them. Take. Bucky. 

"I see you healed up nicely, the last time I saw you, your resembled Freddy Krueger," Steve taunted. 

He needed Rumlow to react, to stop think and get angry. 

Rumlow smirked at him. 

"I made some new friends."

Steve filed away that little bit of information. Friends with capabilities to perform medical miracles shouldn't be too difficult to find. As fine as Rumlow looked now, nine months ago it had been touch ago that he would survive from his injuries. Enough so that the police had eased up their security on him and he had given them the slip. 

The seconds ticked by, it was a stalemate, neither side was willing to make a move first.

A blur of movement to his left drew his eye, and not just him. 

Hydra Agents swivelled around, weapons raised and pointing towards the movement. 

Steve tensed as Holly came into focus as she drew to a stop. A panicked look twisting her face. 

She glanced at him, to the Hydra Agents, though Steve couldn't help but note she seemed unfazed by the number of weapons pointed at her. 

"RUN!" 

Holly lunged herself forward, towards him and Thor as seconds later an enormous, monstrous figure burst through the gap, pushing containers out of its way. 

Steve stared, eyes widening as he took in the sight unfolding before him. 

A massive growling three-headed dog towered above the all. 

For a microsecond, everybody seemed to stare in shock before the heads barked, and Hydra opened fire.

The sound of bullets clanging on metal rang through the air.

The dog was made of metal. 

What the fuck? 

Steve raced to Holly, pulled her flush against his chest and shielded the both of them with his shield as some Hydra Agents fired at the two of them. 

He could feel the force of the bullets hitting his shield vibrating up his arm, the sparks of metal clashing on metal lighting up the air. 

His heart raced, but Steve was surprised to find that Holly's was a steady calming beat. The panic had been fake, she was no more scared than Thor seemed to be. 

Thor who had pushed himself into the air and was already hurling lightning down at Hydra. 

He looked down at Holly, her green eyes locked gazes with him. They gave no hint to her feelings, they betrayed nothing but nerves of steel. 

"On my mark, we move," she said. 

He hid his surprise as best he could. Steve was used to the others waiting for his direction, waiting for him to plan the way out. Holly was already ahead of him, a gentle tap on his arm, the only signal he was getting before she moved. 

Spinning out of his grasp, and around him, I.C.E.Rs in her hand firing behind him. 

Steve didn't hesitate, he hurled his shield at the Agents that were firing at them, and moved forward. 

Catching his shield as it bounced back off the container behind the agents before crashing into the next batch of opponents. 

He punched, kicked and threw his shield. 

Unleashing his tightly coiled rage Steve tore through them. 

* * *

Gunfire erupted. 

The echoing clangs of metal bullets hitting metal rang through the air. 

Holly watched as Steve pulled her Doppelganger to him, as the Hydra Agents opened fired, not just on the two Avengers, but on the three-headed dog that crashed in only seconds later. 

Snapping and growling at those that crossed its path.

A bloodcurdling scream cut across the night as metal jaws snapped at one of the Hydra Agents legs, catching him, and tossing him in the air.

Reality sped up.

Thor moved shooting into the air as he gripped Mjolnir and hurling lightning at to the ground. 

Steve flung his shield, and her Doppelganger spun round covering his back, opened fired using the I.C.E.R guns.

Holly moved, throwing herself off the top of the Container she had observed from, and landed with a soft thud beside her Doppelganger. 

She silently cast the shield charm to protect them both from the oncoming curse speeding their way. 

Gold and red clashed. 

The curse bounced off her shield, spinning towards a metal container, where it melted into liquid goo. 

Melting Curse. 

She wrinkled her nose at the smell. 

Steve glanced over at his shoulder, looking at her Doppelganger, the metal goo and her shrouded form. 

His eyes widening in surprise, but Holly moved before he could react. As far as Steve would be able to tell another individual had entered the field and for the moment appeared to be on their side.

She cast her own spell, countering the Disillusionment Charm, followed by a curse of her own. 

She missed, hitting the container behind them; it exploded, shattering into flying shrapnel. 

Holly shielded the Doppelganger and herself from the shrapnel.

"Holly, move!"

Holly knew Steve was talking to her Doppelganger, but that didn't stop her also lunging forward, dropping into a roll as a blast of blue energy fizzled past her. 

Chitauri weapon.

Her pulse raced beneath her skin and the battle roared around her. Guns fired, weapons blasted, and Mjolnir flew.

Holly darted out of the way as Mjolnir sped towards her. 

It hit the Agent to the side of her, before flying in the opposite direction. 

Right, not just enemy weapons she needed to worry about, but she also had to worry about Thor's hammer, and Steve's shield as that spun above her head. 

She could taste the lightning on the air, could feel the crackle of energy crawling across her skin. 

The control and precision of Thor's lightning were impressive. The way Steve was kicking, punching and swinging his shield was a dance in itself.

Holly scrambled to her feet, darting between the Hydra Agents, and the witches and wizards.

Casting spells. 

Spinning and turning. 

Bullets turned into flowers, the ground shattered beneath Hydra Agent's feet. 

A hand grabbed her injured arm; a fresh wave of nausea turned her stomach. They spun her around with force, causing her head to snap back and she could see hostile eyes burning into her.

As far as the Agent was concerned he had grabbed a shadowed cloaked arm, he couldn't determine much else about her.

Holly raised her wand, non-verbally casting the Breaking Curse, _"Dirumpo!"_

The Agents arm cracked loudly. 

He let go of her, a cry of pain escaping his lips. 

Casting another spell, she blasted him away from her. Flying backwards he hit the container opposite with a heavy thump before slumping to the ground.

Holly reached for her wizarding utility belt, pulling out a few Bombtastic Bombs. Activating them with a wave of her wand, she launched them in different directions, before shouting to Steve and Thor to take cover. 

The Weasley's Wizard Product detonated seconds later, causing three massive explosions around them. Unlike muggle bombs, the product as an added trick George had tinkered with, not only exploded but created a vacuum in the surrounding area, sucking things into its path, and transporting them somewhere else. 

Three Hydra Agents managed to dodge the initial blast but were instantly sucked back into a dark black pit that before vanishing completely. 

The products range was only around two-three hundred feet away from the actual explosion, but Holly knew from personal experience just how disorientated they would be, as they fell out the other side.

Thor landed next to her, glancing around.

"There is magic on the air."

Holly wasn't sure why she was surprised that he recognised her but she was.

"I'm dealing with them," she hissed, just as another curse sped her way. 

Holly deflected it with ease. 

All of the magic user's attention was fixed onto her, and while Holly had faced worse odds than that before, she had fewer restrictions on her than she did now. 

Thor nodded, before pushing himself into the air. 

Holly darted forward. 

Twisting and flicking her wand as she rapidly cast her spells. 

Blasting Curse. 

Reductor Curse. 

Lightning Charm.

Smoke into daggers. 

She danced. 

Left to right.

Right to left. 

Shield Charm.

Parry Charm.

Orbis Jinx. 

Breaking Curse.

Shrapnel transfigured into knives flew her way. 

Holly shielded. 

Fiery ropes sprung out of one of magic users' wands, Holly quickly countered transfiguring them into a large snake, Holly could admit that she had stolen that particular idea from witnessing Voldemort used it.

Regardless of her thoughts and feelings about the bastard, he had known his magic and how to utilise it. 

It grew and grew in size, slithering towards the Hydra magical users, forcing them to focus on tackling the snake as it threatened to swallow them whole. 

Pain spasmed every time she moved her injured arm, and her heart pounded in her chest, Holly swallowed it through gritted teeth. Giving in to pain now wasn't an option, no matter how much it hurt. 

Gunfire roared around her. 

Holly could hear the clank of metal, as the bullets had pierced enough holes into the three-headed dog that it lost its balance and toppled over. 

She cast the Breaking Curse, hitting one of the wizards square in the chest, pain twisted on his face, as he spluttered blood, before crumpling to the floor, unmoving. 

Holly grimaced, she had broken his ribs, and it had resulted in them piercing his lungs. 

She was no stranger to killing her enemies but that didn't mean she took any enjoyment over it. It was a needless death, a wasted life that had he been given a chance could have become so much more than what he was now. 

A scream of rage cut across her thoughts, focusing her attention on a wizard crouched down beside his fallen comrade. Hate twisted his face, and he snarled at her, the only warning Holly received.

The shining red of a curse raced her way, Holly cast the shield charm, eyes widening as the curse flew straight through her shield. She had no chance to dodge before she was convulsing under the Cruciatus Curse. 

White-hot knives pierced every inch of her skin. Her head felt as if it was going to explode at any moment. It was intense, all-consuming, all she could think about. 

She couldn't shield the bonds from the pain she was feeling, and Holly knew it was pouring through her by the yell that escaped Steve. 

Holly gritted her teeth. 

No. 

She had experienced this before. 

She had survived Voldemort casting this curse, and the Wizard that was casting it now didn't have a quarter of the strength Voldemort had. 

Holly rolled under the pain, above it, not letting herself panic, not letting herself think of anything but resisting the pain. 

Of shielding Steve and Bucky from the pain searing through her veins. 

Holly gathered her magic, gathered her strength, drew it inwards, let it crackle under her skin. 

Lying in wait as she let her body wither on the floor, as she let out a strangled howl of pain. 

The Wizard took a step closer. 

Then another, then another. 

_Wait._

Holly moulded and shaped her magic, poured everything she had into it. 

_Wait,_ the darkness purred. 

The wizard was towering above her. Wand twisted and pointed at her, concentration creasing his face, a thin coating of sweat covering his brow. 

"I'm going to kill you," he whispered. 

Holly moved, flicking her wand upward, silently casting the curse, _"Adsulto Cordis!"_, pouring every ounce of magic she had into the one curse. 

Her spell flared to life, hitting him in the chest before he had time to react. 

He dropped his wand, hand clenching at his chest, pain twisting his face. 

The Heart Attack curse doing its work, she allowed the few seconds she could afford to let her body gather the strength it needed to move. 

_Move, _she needed to_ move. _

Today was not the day she would die, and certainly not at the hands of a wizard who was weaker than Voldemort. 

Pain spasmed through her body, her limbs shaking, but Holly managed to push herself to her feet, managed to get her body to obey her. 

She was shaking, and exhaustion washed over her, but she couldn't afford to lose focus now. 

Too much depended on her.

"Holly!"

Steve's voice cut across the reverberating sounds of gunfire. 

Holly snapped her attention to her Doppelganger, powerless to do anything as she took a Chitauri blast to the chest, thrown backwards by the force behind one of the containers. 

Fuck.

Damn.

Fuck. 

Holly had hoped she would be able to maintain the charade of two separate people for the whole of the battle, but with the Doppelganger being 'hit' that wasn't possible. Especially as Steve was battling his way through Hydra Agents and dodging spells to get to her. 

With a curse Holly apparated towards the container, casting the smokescreen charm to provide her with cover. 

This was the last thing she needed, she couldn't afford to waste what precious energy she had left. 

The Doppelganger spell was a useful tool, but it was rendered useless as soon as it was injured due to the fact it would get back up when it shouldn't really be able to do and keep on fighting with giant gaping holes in it, or because on closer inspection one would notice they didn't bleed 

The Doppelganger was already trying to get back up, a large hole in the middle of her chest allowing Holly to see straight through. 

She cancelled the spell, dropped the shadows and disguise around her, before taking the place of where the Doppelganger had fallen, adding a little illusion of singed clothes for effect.

Steve reached her side just as the smoke from her charm evaporated. 

Holly coughed, "I don't recommend getting hit by one of them."

"You're alive."

"That is a matter of opinion," she winced, as Steve pulled her to her feet.

"Are you okay, I felt your -" Steve stopped, his gaze sweeping over him.

"Yeah, I was hit by one of those light things," Holly admitted, "It felt like my whole skin was on fire." 

"We have Enhanced on the field."

Holly didn't answer, better for him to think that than know the truth. 

"There are more Hydra Agents than I had anticipated, and we don't know where the others are," Steve continued, "Bucky is coming."

Having the brief respite from the fight allowed Holly to focus on the bonds, she could sense Bucky getting closer, which meant Sam would be with him as well. 

"So we hold out until they get here?" she asked. 

"We do what we can."

Holly nodded.

"Are you okay to carry on?" Steve asked, concern filling his eyes. 

"It takes more than that to keep me down," she smiled reassuringly. 

He nodded. 

The two of them moving as soon as he let go on her hand. 

Gripping an I.C.E.R in her left hand and her wand in her right, Holly open fired at those firing at her, as she followed behind Steve. Casting Stunning Spells to keep up the illusion it was nothing more than her gun. 

A startled yelp forced her attention to the sky, where Thor was currently struggling against chains, as they wrapped around him and pulled him to earth.

The three remaining magic users, focusing on Thor. 

The Prometheus Curse. 

Chains strong enough to hold an Asgardian. 

Strong enough to hold a Titan. 

Fuck.

Holly ran. 

Sprinting across to where Thor was straining and struggling against the chains that anchored him to the floor, unable to break them, unable to swing Mjolnir which, might - just might, have the power to break the curse. 

A metal hand slammed in front of her, blocking her route - Holly looked up at the contraption that the magic users had transfigured and conjured. Taking a leaf out of her idea, containers melded and shuddered together and grew in size as they levitated into the air to form a giant.

A fucking metal giant. 

Its arm caught her as it swiped, throwing her back, away from Thor, until she hit metal with a thud. 

"Oww," she groaned, _damn it to fuck._

The giant slammed its foot down, missing her by centimetres as Holly managed to dive out of the way. 

She could hear the echoes of voices shouting, could see Sam swooping overhead, dropping Bucky into the middle of the fight. 

Holly darted out of the way of another fist smashing the ground. 

The giant's attention fixed on her. 

She rolled, dropping her I.C.E.R and wand in the process. 

The giant advanced, Holly scurried back away from it. 

Scrambling back her hands searching for anything she could use as a weapon. Her fingers grazed over the tip of something.

She reached for it, gripping tightly and swung it round with all the force she could muster. 

Thinking it nothing more than a stray metal pipe amongst the debris. 

Electricity jolted up the length of her arm. 

A wave of power crashed through her ripping apart her shields until it reached her own swirling vortex of energy and merged and swirled and churned. 

Energy crackled along her skin, and the hair on her body stood to attention from the static. 

Lightning hurled itself out in front of her, hitting the giant in the legs. 

Holly stared, wide-eyed at the realisation she was holding Thor's hammer in her hands. 

Mjolnir hummed to her, and for the first time ever, she could hear the song on the Hollows coursing through her. 

Holly swung Mjolnir upwards, defending herself from the oncoming container, batting it away as if it was a Bludger and she was a Beater. 

Not hesitating for a second and surged by the boost of power coursing through her veins Holly lunged forward. Hitting one of the giant's legs with all the force she could muster. 

The power of a storm was at her fingertips, and the wind howled in response, ripping around the giant until it was struggling to stand. 

She smacked and whacked, breaking apart the limbs until it lost its support and crumbled to the floor. 

Holly spun on the balls of her feet, swinging Mjolnir around to hit another container away from her, before hurling another bolt of lightning towards the magic users. 

Breaking their concentration and realising Thor from the cursed chains. 

Thor wormed free of the now powerless chains and stared at her wide-eyed, she was aware of Steve looking at her, and Bucky and Sam and even aware that for a brief moment the battle seemed to have stopped and everybody was staring at her. 

Gathering her will, her own magic and the might of Mjolnir she could feel the energy growing in strength before she let threw another bolt of lightning directly towards the Hydra Agents. 

It missed them, by seconds as one they disappeared. 

The telltale signs of a Portkeys activating whisking them away.

All that remained were those too injured to activate their Portkeys or those that were dead. 

"Lady Potter," Thor said softly, drawing level with her. 

Holly looked up at Thor, her eyes widened as she met his gaze, uncertainty wiggling its way to the front of her mind. 

"I didn't mean to," she said softly.

"You are worthy to wield Mjolnir, do not fear that. Mjolnir would not have allowed you to lift it had you not been."

Holly acknowledged the statement with the barest of nods, she could hear what he was saying, but she wasn't sure she understood it. 

She lifted Mjolnir up, passing the hammer back to Thor, grateful when he took it off her. 

She expected for the power currently coursing through her to lessen, to dim, but it remained steadfast as if it was all her own power she had been wielding and all Mjolnir had done was give her full access to it. 

And wasn't that a terrifying thought in itself.

"Kenneth?" Steve asked as the others approached. 

Tank shook his head, "He's dead, multiple lacerations. He bled out."

Holly's guilt twisted and turned, weighing down on her. 

She hadn't been quick enough, damn it, she hadn't been fast enough.

Steve nodded his head, a solemn look crossing his face. 

Holly glanced at each face. Those that were here had made it, battered and injured, but they had managed to survive.

"Hydra got away, with the weapons," Sam noted. 

"There were never any weapons here tonight. The sale had already happened," Steve answered, "It was a trap from the start."

"What about the others?" Bucky asked, "We need to presume it wasn't just here that was a trap."

Steve nodded, "We need to get to them now if they have the same numbers, and whatever Enhanced was on the field, then we need to back them up."

"Where exactly did the enhanced come from anyway? And who the hell was that hooded figure, they seemed to be on our side, but they vanished pretty quickly."

Holly shared another look with Thor, but both of them remained silent. 

"Questions we can ask later, but first we need to move. We can call Damage Control from the van," Steve ordered, "Daniels and Lowe stay here to watch the site, the last thing we need is for a civilian to wander in and no doubt that the police are on their way."

With that final order, they moved out, the six of them moving quickly, yet still cautiously through the remains of the Terminal. No doubt that a lot of damage had stacked up overall. 

Holly just hoped that Graves was able to hold out until she got there because if one thing she was certain off, those magic users with Hydra had training, serious training which meant more of the Wizarding World had to be involved than she first suspected.

* * *

Clint drew his bow.

He eyed the shadows. 

They eyed him back. 

At least that was the impression he was getting.

Narrowed eyes scanned the area. 

He was jumping at shadows. 

Yet Clint couldn't shake the feeling that there was something there. Hidden from sight, shrouded in shadows, but every now and then he caught movement and the shadows seemed to blur and shimmer. 

"Nat, are you there?" he called over the radio. 

Crackling was the only response he received. 

Something was wrong.

Unease settled over his shoulders, pressing down heavily and the hair on the back of his neck stood to attention. 

His gut twisted and tightened and years of experience on missions were guiding his instincts and raising red flags with every step he took. 

It went beyond the echoing sound of gunfire ahead of him. Shooting that had him leave his perch and attempt to manoeuvre his way through the twists and turns of buildings, warehouses and containers to reach his team.

Thick fog rose with each step he took. 

Impossible as it was. 

It dulled his senses, made him jumpy, and Clint could admit, completely lost. 

"Nat. Stark. Banner?" he called again.

Whispers responded. 

Clint spun on the balls of his feet. 

Nothing was behind him. 

Hushed sound of movement snapped his attention back to the front. 

Empty. 

He was alone. 

Yet, shadows blurred past him with speed. 

Again and again. 

Clint turned, and spun, and turned, trying to track them as they zoomed past him. 

Never touching him, but close enough for him to feel the whoosh of air as they passed. 

A laugh cut through the silence.

His whole body tensed, he drew his bow, the muscles in his arms straining as he held the position.

Arrow waiting to fly the moment he released the string. 

His heart took a beat. 

And again.

And again. 

Nothing happened. 

He eased back his arm, letting the tension slip and took a step forward. 

Shadows shot forward, darting over him as if they were pieces of cloth, swirling around him. 

Clint shielded his body as much as they could, the coldness seeping into him. 

Whispers tickled his across his ears, and the all too familiar sound of Loki rang through him. 

_I can take control whenever I want. _

_You couldn't stop me._

_You are weak._

_Human. _

_I am a god and you should kneel before me._

Ice cold hands seemed to grip around his heart, squeezing tightly. 

Clint found it difficult to breath, difficult to think, to focus...to anything but remember. 

When he hadn't been Clint anymore, but rather an observer in his own body, and no matter how loud he screamed nobody could hear him.

No.

No. No. NO! 

It wasn't Loki. 

Loki wasn't here. 

Whatever was happening, somebody was trying to get into his head, mess around with what they had no right to mess around with. A shiver ran up the length of his spine.

He was stronger now; he wouldn't allow himself to fall into that void where he couldn't control himself.

The shadows moved, faster this time, moving closer to him. He could feel the disturbance in the air as they passed him. 

He took another cautious step forward, arrow in place, just waiting for him to draw back and let it fly. 

_You can't save them._

_You can't save yourself._

The voices whispered. 

Clint ignored them, confident that they weren't real, that it was just a game someone was playing with him. 

Glancing upwards he shot another arrow, letting it sink into the container side, securing itself into place with extra extending hooks, before using the wire attached to it, to climb up the side of the three containers. 

He needed higher ground, and hopefully, the mist and the voices would stop. 

His head cleared the moment he reached the top, moving past the mist and into clean air.

Clint took a deep breath, soaking up the weight that had lifted the moment he reached higher ground. 

Whatever had been responsible for making him feel what he was feeling was restricted to a specific area.

And wasn't that interesting, the fact that whatever was happening could be localised to a particular area. 

The fear that had gripped him so tightly only moments before eased its grip allowing him to find his inner calm and focus on the task at hand. 

The Comms were still down, he had no way of contacting any of his team, but now that he could think clearly Clint began to run through the possible solutions to the problem at hand.

He had spent years as a SHIELD agent, he had the training, this wasn't his first mission, _he_ was in control of himself. 

He continued his journey of moving through the site, using the containers as his walkway and avoiding touching the ground any more than he needed to. 

Clint did not want to fall into that particular pit of despair anytime soon.

The sound of gunfire was louder now, and Clint realised closer than he had thought. 

The fog, whatever it was, messing with his senses and disorienting him. 

Picking up his pace, he sped across the tops of the containers jumping and leaping across them. 

Clint drew to a stop dropping to the roof of the container as bullets sped past him. He could see Nat, pinned down behind a container as Hydra Agents fired at her. 

Jax was to the right of him, using his sniper rifle in an attempt to even the odds in their favour, and the odds were stacked against them. 

He could make out some of their support team, each taking their own position, but couldn't see any sign of Stark or Banner. 

Taking the opportunity when it presented itself, Clint pushed himself forward, keeping as low as he could until he was in a higher position so he could fire back at the Hydra Agents. 

He took precious seconds to mark out his first target before taking aim and letting the arrow fly. 

With quick succession, he fired again and again. Moving constantly to make it harder to target him. 

He could see the ground below, could see the Hydra Agents. The familiar blue energy of the Chitauri weapons sped through the air, along with multi-coloured lights that Clint couldn't determine where they came from. 

But he could see the damage they caused. 

Containers exploded shooting out shrapnel. One of their guys spontaneously caught fire, the agonising scream piercing the air as he dropped and rolled in an attempt to put the flames out. 

Clint couldn't believe what he was seeing. 

Hydra had Enhanced on the field, but actually pinpointing them down was impossible as was the possibility of what they were actually capable of. 

Telekinesis? 

Pyrokinesis?

His pulse raced, thundering beats of his heart pounding against his chest. The fight unfolding in front of him. 

Aim, fire, repeat. 

Aim, fire, repeat. 

Aim, fire, repeat. 

Failing wasn't an option. This was his job, keeping the world safe from the likes of Hydra and those that would see harm befall it. 

The roar of an explosion rocked the container he was standing on. He leapt off the top of it, firing his own explosive arrow head towards Hydra Agents. 

He let his arrow fly. 

Yellow light hit him in the chest. 

Searing pain spread through him like wildfire. 

Blood in his mouth as he took an agonising breath, spluttering with a wheeze. 

Something was worming around inside of him, ripping and shredding. 

He was falling, falling and he couldn't soften the blow. 

Darkness pulled at him, the sound of Nat's voice a distant echo, before he knew no more.

* * *

"CLINT!"

His name exploded out past her lips as time seemed to slow. 

Natasha watched him fall, powerless to do anything but watch. The yellow energy shot had hit him, had clearly injured him enough that he couldn't do anything but fall. 

The ground rising up to meet him, except Clint seemed to be slowing down in his fall, as if something was forcing him to slow down until he hit the ground softly, rather than with a splatter. 

Natasha let out a cry of outrage, letting her rage burn through her as she sprung out from her position. A gun in each hand she opened fire on any who got in her way. 

Cutting a bloody path, she shot her way across from one cover to the next. Reloading her guns in a smooth transition, before continuing to fire again. 

This had been a trap from the get-go. 

There were enough Hydra Agents here to take them down with ease, and that was before she included whatever Enhanced were on the field. 

Natasha ran forward, jumped at the nearest Hydra Agent, wrapped her legs around his neck, and swung around, flipping him over. 

Moving quickly, she lashed out. 

A kick. 

A punch. 

Flinging her Black Widow bites at two more as they moved to intercept her. 

She kicked, spun, punched, ducked and rolled. 

Meeting agents, blow for blow. 

Punch for punch. 

Arms twisted. 

Bones cracked. 

Natasha didn't stop. 

She didn't stop as Stark blasted his way across to them. 

She only drew to a stop when she reached Clint; Graves was by his side, putting pressure on Clint's wounds.

She had no idea when he had arrived. 

Long lashes seeped with blood across his chest. 

Deep wounds. 

Clint needed to get medical aid. 

They needed help, and they needed it now.

As if answering her prayers, lightning hit the ground with a crack, Hydra Agents thrown into the air by the sheer force of impact. 

A glance over her shoulder made the tension ease at the sight of Steve and the others.

Holly, rushed to their side, dropping to her knees as she shared a look with Graves, hands pressing down on Clint's chest. 

She was the only one they had that had some basic medical training. 

"Go on, I've got this," Holly said firmly. 

Her tone leaving no room for argument. 

Not that Natasha tried, she had to trust that Holly could keep Clint alive, long enough for Hill to get more help to him.

* * *

"What the hell was he hit with?" Holly hissed at Graves, ignoring the fight continuing around her, as she pressed her hands to Clint's chest. 

"Heart Exploding Curse. But it was poorly cast," Graves replied. 

"Fuck, he should be dead. I have no idea how much damage has been done with a poorly cast one."

Holly gathered her magic and poured it into Clint's body. 

_"Emantur Ligna!"_ Holly whispered, not having the focus to cast the spell non-verbally. 

Her magic coursed through his body, searching for any and all damage it could find, mending what it could.

Holly was no skilled Healer, but if she could repair as much as she could and place the Stasis Charm on him, then she would be able to keep him alive long enough to get somebody who was skilled to heal him. 

She stretched her senses, getting a read on where precisely needed the most healing. Graves was right, the Curse while poorly cast should have exploded his heart it had instead caused tears in the arteries in the heart.

His blood flow was slowing down and the flutter of his beats getting steadily slower and slower, and the tears were preventing oxygen-rich blood to reach the rest of his body. 

It was beyond her ability to heal, all Holly could do was force her magic to beat for his heart, pumping the blood round and providing the much-needed oxygen Clint needed. 

_"Habitus!"_ she whispered. 

A silver light gathered at her hands, spreading until it covered Clint completely. 

"The Stasis Charm."

Holly nodded. 

"It will keep him alive long enough for the mending charm to do what it can and for him to get a better-qualified healer."

"Potter, none of our Healers will treat him without Obliviating him afterwards."

"I might know someone who will help, but we need to get him out of here sooner rather than later," Holly answered. 

Her magic was keeping his heart beating, was keeping him alive, and the Stasis Charm would keep him like that, holding him on the brink between life and death. 

Holly refused to let him die. 

Refused to let anybody else die. 

An explosion to the right of them caught her attention, Holly threw herself on top of Clint to shield him from any shrapnel. 

A scream catching his attention. 

Holly glanced up she could see Jax impaled by a large piece of a metal container, cutting through his tactical gear at his waist. 

Fucking hell. 

"Keep pressing down on his wound, he is going to stay the same until I break the Charm and I'm not doing that until I have a Healer in the room, but Jax needs my help."

Graves nodded, taking over from her position as she moved her way across to Jax. 

A simple flick of her wrist cleaned her from Clint's blood before she knelt down next to him. 

Holly didn't dare remove the piece of metal from his gut, not while they were out on the field, but she poured what little magic she had left into his body, keeping him alive as another flick of her wand produced clean bandages to pack around the injury, to slow the bleeding down. 

From her senses, she could tell there was a lot of internal damage, more than she could fix. 

Healing took its toll on the Healer and Holly had used a lot of magic already, not to mention her own injuries weakening her already. 

He was looking at her, Holly couldn't tell if there was fear in his eyes or acceptance. 

Could he feel that he was dying, sense it?

Did he accept that he was dying?

Could anyone truly accept it? 

Holly had accepted it once, had welcomed it with open arms even.

But that was under different circumstances.

Jax's lifeblood was covering her hands, and Holly could taste death on her tongue, on the air.

It wasn't happening today. 

She refused to let it happen today. 

_Damn it, you will live, Jax. You will live._

The Hollows pulsed through her, humming to her will. 

Holly dug deeper into herself, gathering everything she could and directing the magic into Jax and into Clint, their lives pulsed within her, in her fingers and in her soul. 

They were both fighting to stay alive, and Holly was doing everything she could to help them. 

"Just hold on. A little longer, I just need you to hold on a little longer," Holly whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not have any medical knowledge other than what I have seen on medical dramas or can be found on the internet. Apologises for any mistakes made. 
> 
> I do not own any of the spells used. Those that you recognise are from Harry Potter, others are words translated using goggle translate and a Latin dictionary, and some may have been used in other stories that I have read over the years either published work or other fanfictions. 
> 
> Also a Commenter pointed out this story is also being posted on Fanfiction and it made me realise that while I had noted the connection to this site on that site, I hadn't on this particular on here. It is me that is posting on fanfiction under the user name dizzykitty. 
> 
> Thank you


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who has read, commented, bookmarked, subscribed and Kudos this story, I am still blown away by how many of you are enjoying this story and how amazing and kind you have all been. I cannot thank you enough. 
> 
> Thank you for remaining patient with me this last month, real life got in the way, and then when I was able to write this chapter I ended up rewriting it as some things needed to come to light, some truths needed to be revealed (though not everything) and it needed to be right, which I took my time in doing and I am happy with the result, though I have procrastinated for the last two days in order to pluck up the courage in posting. 
> 
> Having reread the story again myself, I have noticed some mistakes in the previous chapters that I am going to edit once I get the chance, only to spelling, grammar and style and layout to each chapter, so there will be no changes to the plot. 
> 
> Any mistakes are mine and mine alone. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter.

**Chapter 11:-**

Bernard sat alone at the desk near the magical entrance of MACUSA hidden behind the barrier that separated their government from the No-Majs world. His feet propped up in front of him and his book rested on his lap. The graveyard shift was the worst rota to have in many people's opinions, not much tended to happen and finding something to pass the time to not fall asleep was difficult. 

Bernard was of the opposite opinion, he enjoyed the graveyard shift. Having a five-month-old baby at home, he found the peace and quiet a welcoming break and allowed him time to catch up on reading his favourite novels. Four hours had already passed, and he was already halfway through his new book, a luxury he wouldn't have had at home. Not that he could say he wasn't enjoying his son; Bernard loved him dearly, but he enjoyed the quiet and losing himself in a good book, more than he loved loud noises. Something he had quickly discovered after the birth of his son was that babies were loud. Not something he felt people had adequately prepared him for. There were times when he was at a complete loss at what to do to soothe his son's tears. 

Bernard turned the page in his book, glancing out of the corner of his eye towards the sizeable magical clock that towered over the central foyer. His main job, besides directing any late-night visitors to the relevant department, was to monitor that clock and report any sign that the device was registering a threat of exposure. He was pleased to see that the clock currently wasn't measuring any. 

He had only ever had to report one exposure threat in his career, and that had been Loki's invasion. A shudder ran down his spine, he remembered that particular incident all too well and the chaos that had descended on them all following him reporting it.

He reached for his coffee and took a much-needed sip only to promptly spit out the coffee with a splutter as the all too familiar noise of hands moving echoed through the foyer. His eyes darted to the Magical Exposure Threat Level measurer, eyes widening with horror as it moved from zero to four without so much as a pause at level one, two or three. 

His pulse flickered in panic, and he instantly pushed himself to his feet. Had he tempted fate by thinking of the fact he had only raised the alarm once. To his utter horror, seconds later, the hands shifted again, moving with the clockwork sounds of ticking and wheels turning until it stopped on the thin line between threat levels five and six.

Level Five: - Severe Unexplained Activity.

Level Six: - Emergency. 

Had he brought this upon himself? Tempted fate in such a manner.

The device gave a loud sonorous bong signalling it had in fact, stopped and indicating the dire state of the situation. Bernard had only seen the measurer stopping between those particular two levels once before. Fear gripped him tightly. Loki's invasion had been unexplained activity and an emergency. 

Dear Merlin, he hoped the skies weren't about to rain fire on them all. They were still recovering from that particular event. Even now, the wards weren't as strong as they once were. Needing longer than anybody had anticipated to improve and reinforce. With a shaky hand, he tapped the stone lying on the desk and with a clear voice raised the alarm. 

"This is Bernard Butterworth, the time is 00.30 January the 31st, reporting Unexplained Activity and that a state of Emergency has been measured."

The stone glowed and pulsed before settling on a bold red light. The moment the colour had settled alarms throughout the entire building sounded. Bernard slumped back into his chair, his heart pounding beneath his chest. His eyes widening as he stared up at the device. No one else in the department had reported emergency threats. The last one, before Loki's invasion, was over a decade ago and the wizard had retired five years after. Now though he had reported not one emergency but two. 

He knew within in the next few minutes, Aurors would start flooding through the Floo gates as they responded to the alarm. Their response time had halved since Loki's invasion, having received criticism after the attack for their delayed response. The Aurors department had worked hard to ensure they were better prepared should a similar situation arise again.

But years had passed since the invasion, and they had once again become lax, despite Britain's Wizarding World having faced a similar invasion in Greenwich a year and a half ago, but that had been the Ministry's problem and not theirs.

He couldn't say whether they would arrive on time to deal with the situation or whether they would end up needing to investigate after all the Magical Exposure Threat Level measurer only measured. It didn't pinpoint the location at least not accurately.

Bernard just hoped whatever the emergency was that it wouldn't have the same loss as life as the last one.

* * *

She could taste death on her tongue. 

She could see it. The rest of the world was spinning around her chaotically, blurry shapes and muffled noises, but she was still. The steady beat of her heart echoing loudly through her. Holly knew it should be racing, knew that the adrenaline was coursing through her yet she had found a stillness inside her that seemed to stop everything. As though she was standing on the shoreline with a vast endless ocean before her. It wasn't an ordinary ocean though its surface mirroring the deep darkness of the sky above, shimmering with starlight she had never seen before. A well of power hidden inside of her. 

Taking a breath, she dived into the ocean, into the vortex of power that was both timeless and ancient. The world exploded around her. 

The Hollows were singing. 

Her magic was singing. 

The world around her was singing. A kaleidoscope of colours and patterns, swirling and turning. Holly couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Except she could, when she stopped trying to, when Holly let her instincts guide her, when she let that living breathing power ripple across her skin and breathe like flexing a muscle for the first time. Testing its strength. 

Holly knew how strong it could be. Knew what would happen if she let herself fall into that vortex to deeply, knew precisely what kind of monster she would become and letting that particular beast out was the last thing she wanted. She could never lose control like that again. Never.

Threads upon threads upon threads wove themselves across her vision. Multicoloured, tangled, knotted, threads that spun into a web that Holly could only think represented one thing. 

Life. 

The web of life in its purest form, beautiful. A network that connected everyone and everything, and it glowed with that spark that she instinctively recognised. Magic. Magic was life. Life was magic. Holly could sense Graves, his pulse beating frantically, her eyes zeroing in on the vibrations they sent through the pattern, through the weave, to the greater whole. A ripple that loosened some threads allowing them to twist and weave into a new pattern from what they had been seconds ago. If she had the time to explore. To truly focus, Holly was sure she would lose herself in that web, lose herself to the weavings and everything that she couldn't comprehend when she thought about it too hard. 

Except she could taste death on her tongue. Could feel the cold seeping into her bones. Could see two threads, two pulses dimming, weakening with every breath she took. Holly wanted to gather them up in her arms, hold them tight and keep them safe, yet something about that idea made her hesitate - made her think that doing so would be disastrous. Tilting her head, she studied both threads. 

Clint and Jax. 

They were dying, if the weave, the web represented life and each thread represented lives then these two weaker, dimmer threads were them. If the light vanished completely - would that mean that they were dead? And what would happen if the threads lost their connection to the web, to that spinning web if they frayed in their weakened state? Holly didn't have the answer, and she was pretty sure she didn't want it, but something told her that if she didn't do something, she would find out soon.

But what exactly was she to do?

The thread closest to her, the thread _she knew_ belonged to Jax flickered. She was running out of time. With no real plan, Holly dived forward, reaching out to grab both threads in her hands, a zap of energy, and a warm tingle in the palm of her hands. Their lives fluttered in her hand, barely noticeable, Clint's stronger only by a fraction, and mostly down to the Stasis Charm that was keeping him on the brink and freezing him there.

She couldn't afford to use the Stasis Charm on Jax, not while he still had a piece of metal in him. 

Think.

She needed to think. 

Her mind racing, searching for an answer.

What would happen if she was to weave their threads with her own? Holly had no idea if it would work; if she was honest, she had no idea what she was doing, or what the hell was actually happening. Trusting her instincts, Holly as carefully as she could she started weaving their threads, together with her own to their own unique pattern. Strengthening their connection to the web. A shiver running up the length of her spine every time the weave got that little tighter. 

Her breath was theirs. 

Her heart beating for their hearts.

She was clinging onto both Clint and Jax's lives with a death grip refusing to budge an inch, refusing to let go for a second. It helped, at least in Holly's opinion, that neither of them was willing to give up the good fight. It helped that both of them were fighting tooth and nail to live. She worked tirelessly. The Hollows vibrating within her, a surge of power passing between her and them. She could feel both of their lives getting a little bit stronger. Their pulses growing a little steadier.

"Potter."

Holly blinked, the colours vanishing from her vision as her mind caught up with the real world as everybody else saw it. A familiar face coming into view.

Williams. 

Holly blinked in surprise. She hadn't been expecting him. What exactly had she missed? 

"Yeah," she muttered, turning her attention back to Jax, checking his pulse. 

Not that she needed to. She could feel Jax's pulse alongside her own. And wasn't that fucking weird. 

"We need to get him onto a stretcher, so we can get him back to the Tower," Williams replied. 

Her eyes snapped back to him, his blue ones stared down at her. She couldn't read a single thing in them. Either he was good at compartmentalising, or he simply didn't care. 

"Tower, why the fuck aren't we going to a hospital?" she hissed, not able to hide the anger that tinged her voice. 

"Orders," Williams replied, his voice flat, as though he was explaining the obvious, "Hill doesn't want to risk Hydra going after them at the hospital. She is attempting to try and get doctors to the tower now, but you are going to have to do what you can until she can."

Logical. Yet also completely fucked up. Caught between a rock and a hard place.

"In case it has escaped anybody's notice he has a large chunk of metal currently sticking out of him. I can't remove that. I am not a surgeon," she pointed out, her gaze hardening as she met his eyes. 

Both Clint and Jax needed surgery of some kind, different operations granted but surgeries never the less. She didn't have the skill or the knowledge to repair the tear in Clint's arteries, and Jax's internal damage was beyond her. Healing wasn't something she could just throw magic at and hope for the best, she could quite possibly cause more harm than good. 

Holly's mind raced, searching for solutions. Only one came to mind. It was risky, it crossed a line that Holly was trying so damn hard to not pass any more than she had to. But then tonight she had had already crossed that line. And did she really have much of choice? 

Not when lives were at stake. So long as she was careful, they would only ever see the surface and nothing more. But it would bring questions, questions she would have to answer.

"Is Hill here?" 

"With the Captain and the Director of Damage Control," Williams nodded slowly; a puzzled look crossed his face. 

"Load them up onto the van, but do not fucking leave until I am on the van with both of them," Holly snapped firmly, before turning her attention to Graves, "Stay with them."

She didn't give Graves a chance to argue, maybe she wasn't fair to him, he had his own people out here, but Holly didn't have the time to be fair. Not when people were dependant on her. Pushing herself to her feet, Holly scanned the area. There were people in suits, moving around in all different directions. Walking around the injured and covering the bodies of those that had fallen. 

Holly hadn't heard of Damage Control before, but she had a feeling they cleaned up messes that were safer to keep out of the general public's hands. Searching, she spotted Hill next to Steve; talking to a woman she had never seen before. 

Quickening her pace towards them, Holly hesitated for a moment as she felt the familiar prickle across her spine; her senses picking up that someone had just Apparated. Holly knew that it meant the American Aurors had arrived. Their reaction time on par with the Ministry Aurors if not a little quicker. She resisted the urge to scan the area, resisted the urge to look anywhere but at Hill, Steve and the Director of Damage Control. With the muggles on the scene, they would hide behind wards and observe from a distance until the opportunity presented itself to get closer. 

Flattening her hair over her scar, and doing her best to not look up in any direction, Holly approached Hill, Steve and the Director. She could see the tension across Steve's face. Whether from battle or dealing with the Hill and the mystery woman, Holly couldn't say for sure. 

A quick look at the bonds that they shared told her that Steve wasn't seriously injured. Ensuring she concealed her own injuries as best she could, Holly approached the trio cautiously, reading the situation between them as she did. 

She could have sliced a knife through the tension that had settled between them. She could hear the irritation in the taut, clipped tone of Hill's voice, as she spoke to the woman in front of her. Holly didn't recognise her and had no doubt this was the Director of Damage Control. The Director was older than she had expected, grey hair set in a way that reminded her far too much of Umbridge than she cared for. She was of a similar size and frame as Umbridge, though her face was rounder, and didn't look like a toad. Dressed in a long olive green coat that came to her knees; a black skirt an inch longer peeked out at the bottom.

She was staring at a muggle version of Umbridge, could her day get any better. Though she had a feeling that the statement was tempting fate too much.

"The Hulk is not a thing, he is a person, Bruce Banner, and right now we need to fix our attention in digging him out of the earth," Hill said.

"I am well aware of the Hulk's origins, just as I am aware that Dr Banner has no control over his alter ego. The last two times the Hulk has run around freely in New York City has resulted in the loss of lives and considerable cost to the city," the woman said crisply. 

The callousness in the woman's voice caught Holly by surprise, and she could feel her hackles rise at the implication of their discussion. 

"He saved lives both of those times;" Steve said coldly, "Blaming him for what went down in Harlem is negating the involvement the military had in that incident. And we stopped the Invasion."

The Director didn't answer; she gave a smile that could have meant different things, before turning her attention towards Holly. It made both Hill and Steve turn towards her as well. Holly met the Director's gaze with her own, let the woman give her an assessing sweep and refused to shrink under the weight that pressed along her skin. She had withstood Umbridge at fifteen, and while she had learnt the art of diplomacy and how to deal with the internal politics of those in power as she had grown older, Holly wasn't someone who would bow down to others, and she wouldn't bow to bullies. Cocking an eyebrow, Holly gave her best, _'I'm not impressed_' look, before dismissing the Director without a second thought, turning her attention to Hill. 

"How are they?" Hill asked. 

"They need a hospital. Not the Tower," Holly answered, cutting straight to the point. 

"It's not an option we have. I don't have enough people to keep them safe at a hospital, and it would leave them vulnerable and endanger others."

"I have offered one of our secure facilities to provide you with the care your people need," the Director chimed.

Holly spotted the narrowing in Steve's eyes at the mention of the facility, and she suspected if anything was even worse than leaving them open and vulnerable at a hospital.

"And as I have previously stated Director Hoag that is not happening," Hill said, the tightening around her eyes and lips telling Holly this was a discussion they had had more than once. 

"As amusing as your suspicion is of my organisation need I remind you that Tony Stark is also my superior?" Hoag smirked. 

The amusement was clear to hear in Hoag's voice, and Holly had a feeling it was an argument that the two women often had. Hill turned to respond, but Holly cut across, not having the time for whatever they were refusing to budge on. 

"Both Clint and Jax need surgery. I am not a surgeon."

Hill snapped her attention back to Holly. Holly refused to flinch. The cold anger in Hill's eyes was more than likely not for her, and she didn't take it personally, but Holly didn't easily cower, and she wasn't about to start now. She had been in charge of her own team when she had still worked as an Auror, Holly was used to leading and to giving orders, and while she had been happily playing to the tune of others, right now she wasn't going to back down. 

"I have people trying to contact Doctors now, and get them to the Tower."

"They won't make it to the Tower," Holly countered. 

It was a battle of wills as their gazes locked, Holly was aware that Director Hoag was paying close attention to both of them. 

"What do you suggest?" Steve asked softly, breaking the growing tension. 

She kept her gaze on Hill a moment longer before turning her attention to answer Steve. 

"I have somewhere that can give them the medical attention they need, and it's closer than the Tower."

"Is it safe?" he prompted. 

"Hydra won't be able to reach them. Whether it is safe in general depends on how much trouble we bring down on them," Holly replied cautiously. 

Holly was well aware of three sets of piercing eyes, each one trying to unravel her statement and in turn her. Steve was frowning at her, and Hill was giving her a look she couldn't decipher. Director Hoag though was watching her with a curious glint, Holly didn't like. 

"I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught your name?" she smiled at her. 

"I didn't give it," Holly said calmly, meeting her gaze with her own. Holly forced her body to relax, forced herself not to react in any way but the one she was currently portraying. 

Hoag's eyes narrowed, a pinched expression crossing her face as she pressed her lips tightly together. She shifted on her feet, stiffening into a rigid posture. Holly got the impression she was used to throwing her power around, used to walking over people, used to getting her own way. 

Hoag opened her mouth to say something, not that she had the chance, Steve had moved, blocking Holly from her view with his body, "Come on, you can tell me where you are planning to take them."

"Captain?"

Steve ignored Hoag's call, guiding Holly away. Holly wasn't sure he realised he was doing it or not if time wasn't so fucking precious she would almost be amused, as it was she was just annoyed. 

"I hate internal politics," she said firmly. 

"You and me both. But Damage Control is a joint venture between Stark Industries and the Federal Government. Now that SHIELD is seen as the enemy by the public, we need someone to clean up and keep dangerous substances from the general public."

Holly glanced up at him, "And she has to be a bulldozer, does she?"

Steve didn't answer which Holly took as an answer in itself. 

"Where do you want to take them?" he asked, drawing to a stop. 

Holly glanced up at him. 

He was like a coiled spring ready and waiting. Holly could see the tightness in his face, the tick in his jaw. He stared at her, his blue eyes like two windows into the depth of him. Molten anger swirled in his eyes, and for a brief moment, Holly got the distinct impression she was looking into the heart of a volcano, bubbling away as the pressure built and built, preparing itself to explode. But it was more than just anger she could see, the anger she had no doubt was directed at Hydra just as much as he was directing it at himself. 

She could see that clearly in his eyes, could feel it along the bonds, his anger threatening to swallow him whole, and then there was guilt as well. Misplaced as it was, it was there. Holly understood that burden. She knew the weight of it, and knew from personal experience, just how choking it could be especially when people got hurt. Holly wasn't sure whether offering comforting words would help, whether he would even hear them at this precise moment. Yet she found herself wanting to say them none the less. 

She reached for his hand with her own, surprising them both when her fingers brushed his lightly, "This wasn't your fault. Don't take the weight of this on your shoulders."

His eyes widened ever so slightly, and for a single moment, she could see everything he didn't want people to see. Holly couldn't say whether he was letting her, or because she dared to look closer. Pushing through the expectations of others he shouldered or even because those pulsing bonds were currently thrumming between them softly.

"I should have been better prepared," he said, his voice taut. Giving nothing away, other than the apparent anger. 

"Steve, you couldn't have prepared for this. You couldn't have foreseen this. This, this is not your fault. Hydra is the only responsible party here. Hydra and their allies."

"I made the wrong call."

"You can't win every battle," Holly said softly, her eyes softening as she looked up at him. "Nobody can win every battle. What matters is what you do next? Do you do nothing, or do you pick yourself up, learn from your mistakes and keep fighting."

His eyes hardened, "We still fight. We carry on until Hydra is defeated once and for all."

She gave him a small nod. 

"You aren't alone in this, Steve. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

Holly knew tonight changed things, changed more than anybody else realised. Hydra had changed the game, the witches and wizards with them had changed the game. 

Thankfully she had planned for such a possibility; she just needed to put that plan into action. 

But first, she needed to get Clint and Jax to the medical aid they needed. 

"There is a Foundation Clinic ten minutes away from here," she said, "If Hill is worried about them monitoring hospitals they won't know about this one."

Not with all the precautions they had taken to keeping it as off the grid as possible. Not with a combination of magic and technology working together. 

"It will be safe for all of us," she continued, "Including Bruce."

For a moment he was silent, didn't even so much as move as he studied her. 

"Have Jarvis send us the address. We will meet you there; make sure Damage Control isn't with us."

Holly nodded, pulling her hand away from him aware of the chill that seemed to fill her the moment she broke contact, the bone ache chill that felt wrong, pushing it aside she turned on her heel and made her way back towards the van with Clint and Jax. She just hoped that she hadn't wasted too much time.

* * *

Steve watched Holly step into the van, the doors slamming shut behind her before it took off in the direction of wherever she was planning on taking them. Some would say it was a leap of faith in giving her the go-ahead, but regardless of the complicated knot of emotions that surrounded them on a personal level, he trusted Holly enough not to be a danger to his team. 

She had proven that more than enough tonight, as she had fought so fiercely beside them. Though fiercely was an understatement upon describing her fighting technique. Relentless was a far better word. 

She had taken hits. Steve had felt the searing pain rip through the bonds. Knew Bucky would have felt it too. It had felt as though he was going through the transformation process with the serum all over again. Fire had eaten at every nerve in his body. For a moment, he was convinced that his entire body was splitting in two. Not to mention the hit with a Chitauri blast she had taken, or the metal giant thing, whatever the fuck that had been.

And then she had lifted Mjolnir. Steve wasn't sure he could wrap his brain around that particular element in tonight's events, or the implications it signalled to. 

Worthy. 

Thor had taken it in his stride, but what kind of worthiness fit the category in being able to wield a weapon as powerful as Mjolnir. Steve didn't know. But he knew the implications of what her wielding it meant. Hydra had seen her use. Holly had not seen the look Rumlow had sent her way, but he had, once the initial surprise had passed only interest remained. Too much attention, mixed with a hint of desire. A thirst to possess. To possess a possible weapon, somebody who was more likely more accessible and easier to control than Thor. Steve didn't like it one bit. With a shake of his head, he pulled his attention back to the scene before him. One problem at a time. 

Steve surveyed the area. 

Muscles quivered, as his whole body tensed. Fists clenched and unclenched. Anger bubbled inside him, ready to explode at a moment's notice, searching for a way out as he did everything in his power to keep it leashed. 

Damage Control was busy at work, Director Hoag directing her people as they focused on clean up for both sites. Hill was communicating with Stark's security team as they attempted to pull the Hulk out of the ground. Clearly, she and Hoag had come to an agreement, though his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of a few of her agents, raising their weapons ever so slightly, as more and more of the Hulk surfaced. 

From the angry grumbles, the Hulk was making Steve was sure this was about to end badly, with trigger happy agents. It was clear that the Hulk was rattled, and in turn, shaking those who were currently letting their fear rule them. Thor was close by, along with Tony, though Steve wasn't sure how much they would defuse the situation, they were at least close by should they need to distract the Hulk. Steve had faith in Bruce though, belief that he would pull through and rein back control should it come to that. 

Steve closed his eyes, took a breath, trying to centre himself. He understood what Holly had told him that this...wasn't his fault, and yet it didn't stop the gut-wrenching twist of his insides telling him differently. He had made the call, had planned out how they were going to tackle both sites, and as a result, people had gotten hurt. He should have prepared better. 

"Steve."

He looked up towards Natasha as she approached him. Taking in the bloody cuts and bruises already forming across her forehead and cheeks. She was limping slightly and doing her damn hardest to keep it hidden. Natasha was never one to show weaknesses if she could help it, even when she was in pain, but Steve had worked with her long enough to be able to read the signs. 

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied coolly, ignoring his concern, "We have two dead, a lot of injuries, both from our guys and the Detectives. Clint and Jax are critical."

"Holly is taking them to a place they can get the treatment they need," he noted, watching her closely.

Natasha didn't flinch under his gaze, but there was tightness around the corner of her eyes. The only thing that gave away what she was really feeling.

"Not the Tower?" she asked, her eyebrow rising ever so slightly. 

"Holly made a compelling case. They both need surgery."

"Hill won't like it."

"I've authorised it. Jarvis will be sending us the address so we can head there," he answered, "She said it was a Foundation clinic."

The eyebrow twitched. Natasha knew something, he could tell that much, but he knew better than to push. Natasha liked her secrets, just as much as she liked finding other peoples and if it was an actual danger, then she would bring it to his attention, or deal with it herself. 

"Rumlow is alive," he said, turning the conversation to something that he could actually get answers about.

Sharp green eyes snapped to him. Neither of them said a word, the weight of his revelation hanging between them. They knew the man, had worked with him and had to a degree formed a comradeship with him. 

"I think he is running the cells in New York," Steve continued. 

"Rumlow is a good leader, men follow him. But I doubt this is his show. He was Pierce's man, after all."

"He was after Bucky, Nat. They sent people to recapture him."

He scanned the area until he found the familiar form of Bucky, standing next to Sam, both observing and helping Stark's security team shift things out of the way. The bonds between them were wide open, a whirlpool of emotions and thoughts passing back and forth. Steve couldn't hope to pick apart to understand. The complete opposite to the cold stillness Holly was currently projecting through the bonds. Almost as if an icy shield was guarding her most inner thoughts. 

"We won't let that happen Steve."

He didn't respond. He wouldn't let it happen. 

Hydra wouldn't get hold of Bucky again. 

Hydra wouldn't get hold of Holly either. 

He would make sure of that. 

"There was another player on the field, besides Hydra and whatever Enhanced they had on the field, there was another player, and they took out Hydra Agents like nobody I have seen before. They were definitely Enhanced."

"I will reach out to some contacts; see if they have heard of any Enhanced individuals taking up the fight," Natasha replied, her eyes hiding whatever thoughts she had on that particular news. 

He nodded. Steve wasn't sure that she would find anything, he wasn't sure exactly why, but there had been something about that Enhanced that had seemed familiar, like a tug on the back of his mind he couldn't quite place. A roar pierced the air, followed quickly by shouts and the sounds of guns. 

Steve moved. Natasha right alongside him. He could see Thor already moving to intercept the Hulk as he managed to break himself free of the remaining confinements of his earthly prison, how Tony was already putting himself in the middle of the Damage Control Agents and the Hulk. Hulk's head moved from side to side, anger twisting across his face, as he let out another roar. 

"Easy Big Guy, bad guys have gone, it's just us," Tony soothed, or at least attempted to.

Steve wasn't sure it worked; not considering the Hulk took three steps forward, forcing the agents to raise their guns a little higher as they involuntarily stepped back. Green eyes darted, back and forth as the Hulk seemed to scan every shadow. 

"Shadows have gone?"

Steve blinked in surprise, "Shadows?"

"Right," Tony whistled, "Big guy here seemed to sense something in the shadows. He kind of wanted to smash them; he could have picked up on something my scanners weren't. Something new in their cloaking technology."

"If it was cloaking technology," Bucky said his tone a blade that whispered warning. 

Steve snapped his attention to him. Bucky's eyes were ablaze, a stormy blue, hardened and cold. No emotion crossed his face, a slither of the Soldier bleeding through. Bucky had called on the Soldier at some point this evening. Steve could sense the lingering boost of energy crossing the bonds, tempered with an edge that stroked like a razor across his skin. 

"We can discuss it in when we debrief," he said, his tone final and leaving no room for arguments. 

Steve was well aware of the attention of Damage Control Agents, of Hoag fixing her gaze their way, despite Hill talking to her. He hated the bureaucracy of it all. His phone vibrated, a quick check showed him the notification Jarvis had sent with the address Holly had taken Clint and Jax. 

"We are done here. Let's leave Damage Control to do their jobs," he stated, "We need to meet Holly at where she has taken Clint and Jax."

Bucky straightened, fixing him with a look. 

"Right, she's not taking them back to the Tower?" Tony asked slowly, a frown crossing his face as he communicated with Jarvis. 

"Clint and Jax wouldn't have survived to make it there. They needed surgery, and she knew a place."

"Where exactly, because Jarvis is stating the address is some kind of hotel which has been abandoned for years."

"She said it was a clinic."

"Definitely no clinic registered here," Tony argued. 

"She said it was a Foundation Clinic," Steve countered through gritted teeth, his patience wearing thin.

He noticed the glint in Tony's eyes, a small smirk crossing his lips. 

"Well, I suppose she would know."

Steve froze, "What exactly is that supposed to mean Tony?"

"She's the Founder of the Foundation," he answered, "Girls rich. Not my level rich, but rich enough that in truth, she sure as hell doesn't need to work. For like six or seven lifetimes, not that there is much of a trail of her finances I might add."

His eyes snapped to Bucky as anger vibrated through the bonds, something dark and exquisitely dangerous moved in the depths of his eyes as he pinned a look at Tony. Something that all of them noticed, a shift washing over them all and for a second, even Tony's seemed to hesitate before he hid it quickly. On the surface, not much appeared to phase Tony Stark, but Steve was slowly starting to realise that wasn't always the case. 

"You looked into her finances?" Bucky said. His voice like ice. 

"I had Jarvis look into her period. Do you know she doesn't have a single social media account, no internet presence at all," Tony replied.

"Now isn't the time or the place. We can discuss this when there aren't so many people to overhear," Steve said firmly, taking a step closer towards Bucky, aware that Sam had on the opposite side. 

"I'm just saying the Foundation she stopped working for, she set up, Holly owns it," Tony continued as they moved towards their vehicles, "Its a surprise she walked away from it." 

Steve couldn't answer him, his mind spinning with questions of his own, it was clear that there was a lot more to Holly than they realised.

* * *

Edward looked past the thin barrier that hid him from sight, frowning as the scene unfolded below. He couldn't lie and say life had gotten easier in the last few years in ensuring the security of the magical world stayed secure. 

It hadn't, not by a long shot. 

Not since the No-Maj Tony Stark had stepped into the limelight and declared himself Iron Man and the Wizarding World started to realise that No-Majs were far more advanced than they realised. Months later, Hulk and Abomination tore through Harlem as if it was paper. Causing a nest of ghouls hidden in one of the buildings to flee. At New Mexico Asgardians returned to Earth, bringing with them the firm reminder of their might. 

Then Loki invaded with his army, and the Avengers were born. No, the last few years had made his job all the more difficult. The criminal underworld more than happy to trade things off with the No-Majs world and pass it off as alien technology, and not to mention the wizards and witches that then attempted to use said alien technology to not be caught for their own crimes. 

The world was changing. There was no arguing against that. Edward wasn't sure that the Wizarding World was ready for it. Wasn't sure that they could keep on going as they had in the hopes that it wouldn't affect them. Tonight was a prime example. Their senses had picked up on magic, large quantities used with No-Majs insight, and yet upon arrival, it was clear to him, that the Avengers were involved in some way. 

Were they now picking up on energy that wasn't just magic?

Or even worse, was magic still involved in some way?

There was still a lingering taint, a scent, a feel on the air pressing down. Edward's Auror instincts picking up on it instantly to recognise it for what it was. But it wasn't enough to be able to track, not enough to identify who the culprit was. 

"Sir."

He glanced towards his second in command. O'Brien, a grim look crossing her face. 

"Report," he ordered, glancing back towards the scene unfolding below, eyes narrowing. 

"The readings are definitely picking on the use of magic," she answered, "There is no sign of any witches or wizards, nor at the secondary site. It hard to say for certain, the Asgardian magic could be interfering."

Edward snapped his attention back to O'Brien swallowing the grimace that threatened to escape. He needed to remain calm to ensure his Aurors didn't panic. Panic was the last thing that needed to happen. The report was the last thing he wanted it to be. It would have been far better for it to be alien, for it to be Asgardian than it was for it to be magic. 

Thankfully as the Captain of Aurors, he only had to report it to the Chief Auror who would see that it would reach the President, but even that was a job he wasn't looking forward to.

"So whoever is responsible for the spike has fled the scene. Can we get close enough without interfering with the No-Majs?"

"No, Sir. Not with the Asgardian on the scene, he would sense us."

He bit down on the words that wanted to escape. Losing control was not the way to go. 

"Have a team monitor the situation, as soon as the No-Majs leave, move in. Sweep the area; find any trace of anything that could give us a lead as to who was responsible," Edward ordered, his tone short, leaving no room for argument. 

It would be a nightmare filing the paperwork for overtime for everyone, and the Finance Department would kick up a Pixie swarm about it, but there was no other option. The matter needed to be resolved quickly. 

He continued, "We will be hitting overtime, pulling all Aurors in unless they are on a vital assignment."

"Yes, Sir."

Edward turned his attention back to the scene with the No-Majs. The Avengers were leaving, moving out. In truth, he didn't know what to make of the team of superheroes. Their abilities making them more than simple No-Majs, and yet they were still No-Majs. He wouldn't personally like to face any of them across the battlefield. 

How would the Hulk react to magic?

What about the Super-soldiers?

And yet one day in the future it was a genuine possibility that it may come down to the Wizarding World against such No-Majs. Edward prayed that it wouldn't be in his time, but the world was changing. Faster than they could keep up. All he could do was prepare as best he could, and ensure that his people were ready and hope it would be enough. With a soft pop, he apparated off the rooftop of the warehouse.

* * *

He landed with a groan, his stomach-turning. It was only an iron will and years of training that stopped him from heaving his guts up. Others weren't so composed as several of his men, promptly doubled over and brought up whatever was in their stomachs. The stomach-acid of vomit filled his nose, mixed with blood and death.

Brock pushed himself to his feet, barely sparing a glance at those who were emptying their stomachs as he moved from the landing zone. If it was under normal circumstances he perhaps would have growled at them to pull themselves together, but travelling as they had, he couldn't blame them. 

It was only his second time using a Portkey, and it wasn't something he wanted to repeat any time soon. 

"Find out how many we lost," he barked at Rollins, as he the other man took his weapon off him. He knew he had lost men, good men, men that the new ones wouldn't be able to replace so easily. 

"That including the magic freaks?" Rollins asked, throwing a sideward glance towards said magic users.

"Including them, but unless you want your eyeballs boiled while they are still inside your skull, I wouldn't recommend calling them that in their hearing."

Rollins shot him an amused look, "Oh, they aren't freaks because of magic; they are freaks because they're freaks."

Brock couldn't argue that logic; not really, there was something about this particular batch assigned to work alongside him that rubbed him up the wrong way. All twisted and broken.

And considering what he was capable of, that said something in his eyes. 

"Just get a report of the dead. And the injured," Brock added, leaving the room that had been set up as their point arrival. 

He passed through a set of double doors, leading to a large hallway, before finding the familiar path he needed to take him where he needed to be. His eyes scanned the shadows, more out of habit, than fear an enemy was lurking. Brock knew this house; this manor was as safe as it could be, so long as you didn't piss off the owner. It was off-grid, and hidden under layers of magic he didn't understand, nobody would be able to find it unless they had an invitation, and the owner by all accounts very rarely invited people over. 

His mind raced over the night's events. Playing back over and over. It had been presumed that the witches and wizards would give them an edge, and it had to a degree, but damn it luck had clearly been on the Avengers side, on the Captain. An unknown choosing to interfere was something nobody had foreseen.

It didn't take him long to reach his destination, not bothering to knock, he stepped inside. It was a large circular room that held a combination of books and other things that he still wasn't able to fully wrap his mind around. Scanning the place he took note of its occupants, barely acknowledging the two magic users who had led their respective teams at each site. Instead, he turned his attention on the others who occupied the room. Each deadly in their own way. Whitehall, who had taken up the leadership of Hydra in America since the fall of Pierce. Malick, who Pierce had cautioned him to be weary off, fear lacing his words in a way Brock had never heard before. Brock finally turned his attention to the owner of the house and in his opinion the true puppet master.

A glass of red wine in one hand as she sat in the large black leather chair behind the mahogany desk, looking content and serene. 

He didn't buy it for a second. He may not have had a drop of magic in him, but even he could feel the power emanating from the witch like a carpet announcing her presence. She was dressed in a scarlet red dress that looked more appropriate for a social event than for a meeting. Dark brown hair framed her face, drawing attention to high-cheek bones and painted lips. Despite the circumstances, despite the situation, he couldn't help but notice her. She was beautiful, but she knew she was beautiful and she played it to her advantage. 

A smile crept along her lips as she met his gaze with her own, amusement glistening in them, before she turned her head, dismissing him with the slightest of gestures. 

"What happened?" Whitehall asked, barely sparing a glance his way. 

"There were complications," Brock answered, glancing towards the Doctor. 

An oversimplification, but it best described what went down.

"Explain."

Brock could hear the patronising note in Whitehall's voice, and the scrutiny in his gaze. He had learnt Whitehall tended to treat the rest of the world as though they were children. Unable to grasp or understand the inner workings of the world around them. 

Brock found himself relaying the events as they unfolded, confirming up to the point of confrontation that everything had been going according to plan.

"A three-headed dog?" Malick asked an eyebrow raised as he gripped his whisky glass in his hands.

"It was made of metal, it tore through my men."

"Ethan reports that another player entered the field, one that appeared to surprise the Avengers as much as they surprised you," the witch said softly, her voice carrying a musical note that seemed to wrap itself around him, invading his mind. 

He looked towards the fireplace on the other side of the room, concentrating on anything but her voice. He had seen how easily she could ensnare the unwary. 

"A hooded figure. It appeared they were using magic."

"They were using _magic!_" Ethan hissed. 

"Quiet Ethan, let the grown-ups talk," she chided, turning her brown eyes back to him again. 

Brock knew the importance of obedience, of following orders, but the blind devotion Ethan, and the other magic users had for the witch was unsettling. He knew loyalty, he was loyal to the cause, Brock followed orders, but he used his head when he needed to. 

The magic users didn't seem to. It could be down to the fact that they were young, fresh-faced and inexperienced, but Brock had a feeling it went deeper than that, that it was more than that. Not quite in the same way that Hydra had controlled the Soldier but something more profound than mere loyalty.

The twisted feeling that implication left him with was unsettling. Brock had learnt long ago to ignore those tugs on his conscious, and the only other time one had tugged hard enough to make him pause, to make him look back and hesitate had been when the Soldier had screamed in the machine that wiped his memories. It hadn't stopped him from continuing on, but something had planted in the back of his mind in that moment seeds of doubt about Hydra. Had it not been for the offer of healing when Rollins had busted him out of the hospital, he would have walked away in a different direction, worked on his own plan of revenge against the Captain. 

"I have no doubt another witch or wizard has entered the field, their identity a mystery, and it is clear they wish for it to remain that way. While we were able to retrieve Jennings before anybody found him, his mind has been Obliviated," she continued, "Such an occurrence was expected, if not exactly when. This changes nothing gentlemen."

"It changes everything, and you know it," Malick snorted. 

"No, it doesn't. We continue forward," she smirked. 

"And what exactly is the next step, we failed to take out the Avengers," Whitehall said. 

"Misdirection, gentlemen, misdirection. The Avengers are going to be too busy to do anything but chase their own tail in the coming weeks," she chimed, taking a sip of her wine, "We have them on alert, the weapons deal went through, and right now every gang in New York City has Chitauri weapons at their disposal. Chaos will descend on the city in the next few days."

She rose from her seat, gracefully, and moved around the desk, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. 

His eyes followed her, until she stopped at the centre of the room, pulling her wand out of the sleeve of her dress she waved it in a complicated movement, the room lighting up, as various images flared to life. Some seemed to be nothing of interest. Buildings that appeared derelict, uninhabitable. Ones you would pass in the street without paying any attention to them, but then there were others, others Brock recognised as landmarks. 

Statue of Liberty. 

Empire State Building. 

"Gentlemen, our targets. We have six weeks to prepare before our first attack," she explained, a building glowed bright, before zooming in closer.

"Empty buildings, historical monuments, what is this Nimueh?" Whitehall snapped. 

"Links in a chain. Remove one, and you start to weaken the armour, remove more than one and this particular armour will unravel," she answered with a soft laugh, "Did you honestly think you were the only ones that monopolized the storage of dangerous weapons. I assure you the Wizarding World has been doing it for centuries. And hidden in New York City, is the Vault. Full of weapons that will allow us, to burn this world to the ground and remake it in our own image."

"And what image is that?"

Nimueh smiled a sweet smile that hid razor-sharp teeth, as power blazed in her eyes. "The image that my grandfather had. The image you followed him for Werner Reinhardt. My grandfather's family threw him away because he didn't have magic, but I have that magic now, and I have everything they denied him and my father."

"Something more beautiful than it ever was before," Whitehall mused. 

"A new world order, for the Greater Good," Nimueh hummed her agreement, raising her wine glass in a salute before taking a sip. 

"From chaos, comes order," Whitehall agreed, a glint shining in his eyes. 

Brock had heard that saying more times than he had cared to count, Pierce had uttered it more than once, with the goal of a New World Order. But Nimueh's words for the Greater Good were new. It was a pretty dream to have, but one that both Schmidt and Pierce failed to achieve. 

Years of experience told him it was too good to be true. Nimueh had said the right words, had offered the right temptations but she hadn't revealed everything, and for the moment she had blinded both Whitehall and Malick with the carrots she was dangling before them.

Brock didn't trust her. 

She was keeping things, her own goals and agendas to herself; why else would she wait until the reveal of Hydra to come forward, to offer her aid, to provide her resources, to claim the connection to the Red Skull. There had always been rumours he had a son, but no one was able to find that son. Now, a granddaughter had come forth with the same goal, the same vision. 

Hydra had known about the Wizarding World since World War 2, since the Red Skull had worked with a wizard, despite not having magic himself. They had in some way worked alongside the few witches and wizards that believed in their cause in the years that followed but never before had one dared to take a position of power with Hydra. Even while sharing the same goals, the magic users had kept themselves separate. 

But something had changed.

Brock just wasn't sure what. For the moment all he could do, was hold his tongue, ensure he played his part and keep himself and his men alive long enough for him to take his revenge on Steve Rogers before those in power got him killed.

* * *

"Potter, this is an empty building."

Holly glanced up at the driver, realising that the van had come to a stop. 

"Never judge a book by its cover," she murmured, "Pull up around the side, you will see an entrance for underground parking. We need to be there." 

The Foundation Clinic front entrance was on the corner of a crossroad. Consisting of what had once been several abandoned buildings purchased together and eventually knocked through to make a hotel. The hotel had lain empty for years, except for the squatters and drug users that had taken up residency, after the owner, a less than honest businessman had fallen on even harder times which resulted in pissing off the wrong person and a timely disappearance.

Whether by his own choice or not, Holly had never found out, but when the hotel had come upon the market, Holly had purchased the property with a vision in mind of making a safe house for those that needed it, a little extra work had also ensured it had a free medical clinic attached as well. 

"You will need to enter the code 31101981, at the gate pad," she added as an afterthought. 

Holly ignored the look Graves gave her, the only one that would recognise the significance of those numbers in that particular order. She heard the familiar sound of the gates opening before the van crept forward before eventually pulling to a stop. 

"Keep pressure on that wound," she directed to Williams, as he packed more bandages around Jax's wound. 

Opening the van doors, she stepped out, the driver and passenger already moving round to help unload the two stretchers. The double doors at the back entrance to the building opened, Holly glanced up, meeting familiar brown eyes that widened in surprise. 

"Holly?"

"I need help," she answered, ignoring the questions that burned in those brown eyes, "I have two critical."

Holly held her breath as Katie stood rooted to the spot. 

"Is this some kind of fucking joke, your dead?" Katie whispered.

Holly cursed.

"In fifth year, we spent seven minutes in heaven in your dormitory, after a dare by Fred Weasley," she said, "We were both each other's first kiss with a girl."

"Holly, it's really you," Katie breathed, her eyes staring widely as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. 

"Doctor Bell," Holly barked, snapping the Healer out of her trance. Giving a firm reminder, she needed to act her part. 

It worked, Katie moved at the tone of her voice, rushing forward to Jax's stretcher, moving it along with her, as two of her colleagues reached for Clint's. 

"Avengers?" Katie's eyes widened in surprise, as she glanced between Clint and Stark's security and then back to her. 

"There was an incident. It needs your speciality," Holly warned, as they stepped across the threshold into the building. 

She was aware of the other's moving around her, aware of Graves with Clint, Williams and two other Stark Security guys moving in, but she wasn't paying that much attention. 

"We have more on the way," she added. 

"Get Dr Wendell here now," Katie barked towards two of the nurses, before adding, "Security can't pass the next set of doors."

Holly nodded before relaying the information back to Stark's guys. She didn't pay attention to whether they followed or not as she passed through another set of doors; a tingle ran down the length of her spine, signalling that she had stepped through a secondary set of wards. 

"What happened?" Katie asked, the moment there was no chance the muggles overhearing them. 

"The Avengers were dealing with something that ended up crossing paths with our world," Holly answered, nodding her head in Clint's direction, "He's been hit with a Heart Exploding Curse, not cast properly, it's done some damage, but I can't tell you how much."

"Healer Wendell will be able to work with that, his speciality is Dark Curses," Katie nodded, "Were the others exposed to anything else?"

"I can't say for certain, but more than likely. It was chaotic."

She nodded her head, "I've got it from here."

Two Healers took over wheeling the stretch in through another set of doors. Katie turned to look at her, "Don't go anywhere; you have a lot to explain. And don't think for one minute I've not noticed your injuries."

"Yeah, sure," Holly agreed, though if she was going, to be honest, she was going to avoid that particular conversation if she could help it. "Is there enough staff to deal with minor injuries?"

Katie shook her head, "We have two nurses, they're Squibs, so they know what is going on here. They have just finished Medical School and wanted to give back to the Foundation. I'm going to need all the magic users with Healer Wendell and me. Are you well enough to cover it?"

"I can manage," Holly said, "Is there anybody in the main house?"

"We just have two kids, one muggle-born we found that isn't quite eleven yet. We are trying to get him set up with a family until he starts Ilverymorny in September, and the other...well she fits in more with the Avengers. Tracey is with them."

"Enhanced?"

Katie nodded before glancing back through the doors, both Clint and Jax had disappeared behind, "I need to go."

Holly stepped back as the door closed in her face. She had done everything she could to help Clint ad Jax, and now all she could do is wait. Wait and pray. She wasn't good at waiting. Wasn't good at sitting by ideally. There would be others entering the Clinic that would be injured, and as exhausted as she was, it was better to keep herself busy.

Better to keep moving. Holly had too much to do; she couldn't afford to give in to the pain that was creeping into her awareness with a sickening wave of nausea. No, she needed to keep moving. Turning on her heel, Holly stepped back out into the central area of the Clinic, swiping a pair of medical gloves as she went. 

Chaos greeted her the moment she stepped through the doors. The second van of injured had arrived, and the two nurses were already rushing about trying to direct them to the beds. What beds they had would soon be full of wounded agents and detectives. 

Blood was on the air. Sound muffled and distorted like she was in water doing her damn hardest to move forward and unable to while the world sped past her. The doors slammed open, and everything seemed to catch up with her, or she caught up with reality. Holly did another sweep of the room, while both Clint and Jax were critical, others were still bleeding, still in pain and she had only one pair of hands.

"Any of you have first aid training?"

"I do."

Holly slowed, snapping her attention to the man who responded. 

Williams. 

Holly hadn't exactly forgotten about him, more put him to one side while she had focused on Clint and Jax. 

"You alright there, Potter?" Blue eyes watching her too closely. 

No, she wasn't, but she wasn't about to admit it to him, not when she was as vulnerable as she currently was running on empty fumes and Williams had a strange taste of magic to him. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered softly, "Treat those you can and help the nurses with whatever they need when you can't."

He nodded, slowly, his eyes never leaving her. 

Maybe coming here was a mistake with him. Except Holly hadn't had a choice, and yet she couldn't ignore the gut-wrenching feeling she was getting. Yep, she was definitely going to have to keep an eye on the man, but right now wasn't the time. Not when so many people needed attention. 

Holly moved to the nearest bed, she really hoped this was the extent of the injured.

* * *

It was one of Stark's security guys that let them into the underground parking of the building Jarvis had directed them to. Bucky wasn't entirely sure what he had expected when Steve had said Holly had taken them to a Foundation Clinic, but the outer shell of the building made you think rundown and disused. 

Inside was a whole different story. 

Passing a waiting room that looked like it belonged in an actual hospital; they walked through a set of double doors, to the main area, which Bucky could only think of as a small ER. Chaos overwhelmed his senses as the world blurred around him. Every bed was full, two nurses were scurrying around from bed to bed, and where they weren't, Holly, Graves and two of Stark guys were offering what aid they could. 

Sam moved without a word, swiping a pair of medical gloves as he passed to offer assistance. His former career giving him medical experience. Bucky made a beeline towards Holly, aware that the others were trying their hardest not to get in the way, an exhausted Banner slumping down on the nearest chair, blanket wrapped around him tightly. 

"Can you hold his other arm?" she asked, not even looking towards him, "X-ray has confirmed he has a dislocated shoulder, but thankfully no broken bones. I need to put it back into place. And I really want to avoid getting hit."

"You have put a shoulder back into place before, right?" the detective asked. 

Holly flashed him a reassuring smile, "Yes, I have. I know how to do it without causing any further injury, and I have given you something to relax, so just let that work okay. I promise you, you will be fine."

The detective's eyes darted between the two of them, uncertainty shining through, though Bucky couldn't help but notice they lingered on him longer than Holly and it wasn't just uncertainty he saw then, it was fear. He knew he deserved it. Knew he should become accustomed to it because that was all the world would ever be when they saw him. 

Afraid.

A nudge registered through the bonds much like a curious puppy nuzzling a new person. He met Holly's gaze across the bed. A reminder she wasn't afraid of him, at least not in the way the rest of the world was. She was wary for different reasons, the bonds, the marks on their skin, but not because of who he was. Bucky wasn't sure if that was a mistake on her part or not, but he couldn't help but find comfort in that fact even as it terrified him. 

"So are you going to tell me your name, because I have to say calling you Detective Reid is a little impersonal?"

"Jason," he winced, "Jason."

Holly smiled, "Okay, Jason, tell me about yourself, why did you want to become a Detective?"

"Runs in the family. My father was one, and so were both my uncles and my grandfather. I followed the family path, along with five of my cousins."

"Big family?"

"Too big at times. Everyone is in everyone's business, no secrets, you know?" Reid was breathing heavily, pain twisting across his face.

"I was an only child, though I lived with my Aunt and Uncle and cousin from when I was fifteen months. Can't say we were close growing up," she answered, "So it was something you always wanted to do?"

"I couldn't imagine doing anything different."

Bucky listened as Holly talked with the Reid, distracting him enough that he was starting to relax, forgetting about the fact that she was about to pop his shoulder back into its socket. He couldn't help but notice how much she didn't say in her answers, how she gave just enough about herself to form a connection, but never went in too much detail. 

He argued that it was the fact Detective Reid would never really know her and that she didn't owe him personal details of her life, but it made Bucky reassess over their own conversations, what exactly she gave freely and what she didn't say. Her parent's murder, she only touched lightly on, not that he could blame her. Then the mention of her cousin, of her family, she had mentioned them once before. Bucky knew from her background check their names, but Holly had never used their names. The created game 'Holly Hunting' added the understanding that they weren't close growing up. Adding up the signs, and what she wasn't saying it was clear to him that Holly had been abused, and while some of her scars weren't years old, others were. 

Others that she could only have gotten as a child. A growl rippled through him from the Soldier, his whole body tensed and Holly shot him a concerned look, a frown on her brow before she turned her attention back to Reid. Letting the Soldier out in any capacity, regardless of the necessity, left him vulnerable for the Soldier to take over again, and it was becoming clear to him that the Soldier felt protective over Holly, and that he would fight to the surface to do just that.

Something unusual in itself since the Soldier was only ever a weapon and weapons didn't have feelings or urges. Tonight he had let the Soldier take control, and he had faced Hydra. A deadly combination. His whole body was supercharged, ready and waiting, his pulse racing that little faster, his emotions in turmoil and his thoughts churning. 

He was like an exposed nerve, raw and bleeding. His control was teetering on edge, and it wouldn't take much for him to slip and lose himself in the void deep inside his core, that was always there just waiting for him to fall so it could swallow him whole. The abyss he couldn't get rid of, or cleanse himself off. Instead, it just waited, taunting him with flashes of images of things he couldn't fully remember but knew in his soul he was responsible for. 

What he could remember plagued him, but what he couldn't remember tortured him. Bucky knew there was so much in his time with Hydra that he wasn't remembering. Missions, targets, victims. 

How much pain had he caused?

Bones groaned, a cry pierced his thoughts. He reacted. His instincts, fuelled by the Solider that was still dangerously close to the surface, pushing him forward.

His left arm snapped to attention, reached for Reid's arm as the man moved towards Holly, his own instincts making him react to the pain. The familiar sound of each plate moving to his direction. His eyes widened in surprise, as everything froze. He stared at the wrist in his metal hand. 

Not Reid's.

Holly's. Holly had intercepted him. She was looking at him. Her eyes open and patient, trust glistening in their depths. She trusted him not to hurt her. 

There was no fear.

Just trust, patience. 

He could see that. He could feel it through the bonds. The soft ripples of warmth hummed through him, calm, soothing away the tension. It reminded him of a calm lake at night, mirroring the glittering stars above, the only movement disturbing it from the faint wind that brushed against its surface. Just as he was aware that Steve was by his side, his own bond pulsing through him, a tight tension waiting to act if needed. 

"Buck," Steve started, pausing as Holly's eyes darted his way before finding his own again. 

"Thank you for your help, Bucky," she said softly, there was no heat in her voice; no accusations hurled his way, just calm steadiness.

Grounding him in a way he hadn't expected. 

He let go of her hand. She didn't react, just turned her attention back to Reid as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn't almost snapped her arm in two. Reid, who blinded by his pain, hadn't realised how close he had come to have his arm broken. 

"Your shoulder is back in place; do you want to take the painkillers now?"

Bucky took a step back, Steve mirrored him. He could still keep Holly in his line of sight, but not close enough to cause harm. Fuck, _he_ couldn't afford to lose control. Yet, he couldn't shake the urge that was coursing through him. 

_Protect. Protect. Protect._

She had put herself on Hydra's radar tonight, not just by being on the opposite side to them, but because she had clearly been able to wield Thor's hammer. Something no one else seemed to be able to do, that he was aware of. 

"Buck."

"I'm fine," he lied through gritted teeth. 

He wasn't, he knew he wasn't. He needed to breathe. A war was currently ripping through him, and he had no idea who would come out as the winner, but he knew it was taking everything he had not to fall back into the abyss, to not give in and lose himself once again as the Soldier took control. He didn't want to be that person anymore. It would put everyone in danger. 

Holly stepped towards him, finished with Reid, she clasped his metal hand in hers, her fingers lacing through his. He stared at her in surprise.

"Come on, everyone has been seen to, the nurses can take it from here. We are only going to be in the way while we wait for the Doctors to bring us news on Clint and Jax," she said softly. 

She pulled him along, and Bucky followed, with Steve and the others following her lead. He was aware of Natasha relaying instructions to Stark's guys before Holly was pulling him through a side door that clearly indicated 'Staff Only'. 

It was like stepping into a completely different building, gone was the sterile environment, with the overwhelming clinical smell and bright lights, and loud noises. Instead, it was wallpapered walls, and carpeted floor of a long hallway, before different doors opened and splintered off. 

Bucky took note of a large common area, a games room and what looked to be a quiet room, art room and playroom. He noticed the walls lined with child drawings, bright colours and odd shapes, some even picturing mythical monsters like dragons and mermaids. 

She led them to a large living room, which was right next to a kitchen, he zeroed in on the woman that was currently standing in the kitchen, behind a counter. She looked up at the sound of their approach, a glare crossing her face as she looked at Holly. 

"Not dead then," the woman greeted coldly, "A great many people would be disappointed with that fact."

Bucky tensed, he could feel Steve stiffen beside him. 

Holly snorted, "Still a bitch Tracey."

"Would you want me any other way?" Tracey snapped back as she stepped out from behind the kitchen counter to the middle of the room. 

Bucky flickered his attention between the two of them. It was clear they knew each other, but from the stance of both women, he wasn't sure whether it was friendly or not. Until Holly smiled, let go of his hand and moved towards the woman, throwing her arms around her. 

"It's good to see you, Tracey," Holly greeted. 

Tracey wrapped her arms around her, whispering, "I'm glad you aren't dead Potter."

"Careful Tracey, your Slytherin facade is slipping," Holly said.

"I'm sorry to cut across what is clearly a reunion, but does somebody want to explain why people think you are dead, and what exactly is this place?" Stark asked, stepping forward. 

They stepped away from each other, Holly's smile faltering ever so slightly, "Right, sorry, um everyone this is Tracey, Tracey this is -"

"The Avengers, I watch TV now."

"Taking a step in the right direction," Holly sniped back. 

Bucky frowned; it was clear he was missing something, and from the confused glance Steve threw him he wasn't the only one. Why wouldn't the woman watch TV, when it was clear to him that everyone seemed to do it in this day and age?

Tracey threw Stark a glare, unfazed by the look the man was giving her before answering, "To answer your question Stark, because as far as we were aware, Holly was dead. Has been dead for the last three years, clearly," Tracey paused, turning her glare towards Holly, "That is not the case. And for another, welcome to Sanctuary."

Bucky glanced at Holly who despite the revelation remained emotionless, fixing Tracey with her own look, before turning her attention to them. 

"It's a long story."

"Oh, we are all ears," Stark demanded, "And while we are at it, you can also explain about being the Founder of the Foundation."

* * *

Holly turned to meet Stark's gaze with her own refusing to give an inch under the weight of his gaze. It wasn't an accusation, but there was a demand in his tone. A need for answers. Searching for answers was wired into Tony Stark's very being, regardless of whether those answers could get him killed, his desire to know and understand the world pushed him past barriers that would usually make other people hesitate. Her mind whirled and raced. She was prepared to give some answers, though would carefully be avoiding the magical world, no matter how easy it would be to reveal the truth about the magical world she couldn't do it. It wasn't her secret to expose; it wasn't her place to put countless lives in danger.

Holly would need to go down the proper channels. She had prepared for a lot of in her hunt for Hydra and the children, but bringing in the Avengers into the fold on knowing the Wizarding World had never been one of them. Working with the Avengers had only been for recon purposes. In and out. Nothing more. But everything had gotten complicated, and that wasn't even taking into account her connection to Steve and Bucky.

Tonight had complicated things even further. It had proven that the situation was the worst possible scenario. Whichever way you looked at it, it went far further than merely kidnapping muggle-born children, more than the experiments she had witnessed, endured, and gathered information on.

They had built themselves an army. A loyal army, more than prepared to use magic against others regardless of the consequences, perhaps not even aware of them. Holly had made her plans. Had preparations in place for all possible scenarios. Having worked hard with Hermione and Ron and the others that were in the know to prepare for the worst possible scenario that she could unearth when she started her hunt for Hydra, she needed to activate those preparations soon, before anything else happened. 

Hydra and the wizards and witches with them had declared war. On both the Wizarding World and the Muggle one, whether they realised it or not. She needed to tread carefully, moving forward, but she also needed to act quickly. The Greater Good rang through her head like a bell; she needed to get a handle on that particular revelation before it inspired panic. 

Holly understood they would have questions once she brought them here, she couldn't answer them all. Not yet, maybe not ever. She may hate the red tape that surrounded the Wizarding World at times, hated their inability to see how beautiful muggles could be, but that didn't mean she would risk destroying it either. 

She took a moment to gather herself.

"Holly," Steve said softly, pulling her out of her thoughts, she looked up at him, concern swirling in his eyes. A glance at Bucky showed an equal amount of concern.

"While I may work for you, I don't actually owe you an explanation. People may have believed I was dead, but that is the problem with assumptions, and half-truths and the media twisting words. People draw their own conclusions, and suddenly two plus two equals five," she said firmly, iron lacing her words. She wasn't a pushover, and nobody demanded things from her. Not anymore. "I haven't broken the law. I was never declared dead in the official channels."

"Nobody is accusing you of anything, Holly," Steve soothed, throwing Stark a warning look.

"Tracey," she said softly, turning her attention to the blonde-haired witch.

"I'm going to check on the kids, Katie tell you how many we have?"

She nodded.

"Holly," she hesitated, throwing her a fearful look as if she understood at that moment that there was far more to the story than she could guess, "Is it going to be worse than Riddle?"

She didn't answer, and perhaps that was an answer in itself, one that Tracey seemed to recognise, before giving her own single nod and exiting the room.

Right, start with the Foundation. 

"My family hated me," she said, her voice void of emotion, having long since accepted the fact and that she would never be able to change it, "Hated with the sense that I should have been drowned at birth, or blown up with my parents."

"Hols."

Bucky took a step towards her, but Holly took a step back, keeping the distance between them. She didn't need comfort, she had once, but now, now the wound that her family had caused was no longer raw but an ugly scar. 

"For the first ten years of my life, I didn't know anything about my parents. Just that my dad was a drunken deadbeat and my mother a worthless whore, a path I would no doubt follow," she licked her lips, staring into space, "My bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs, and the only time I was allowed out was to complete chores or attend school. I was punished by being locked in that cupboard with no food for weeks at a time."

The silence was deafening in the room, the tension thick and heavy. Each of them shifting, she could see the widening of Stark's eyes in horror, guilt crossing his face. The green tinge in Bruce's eyes, the unreadable look that hid more things than she could ever guess on Natasha's. Sam, a mixture of understanding and concern as if everything was starting to make sense. The bonds from both Bucky and Steve vibrated violently, anger pouring forth like lava, burning everything in its path. Holly didn't look at either of them, she couldn't, she just strengthened her shields ensuring nothing of her own leaked through to them. The ice blanket doing everything it could to dampen their heat. This was old news, no longer something she let bother her. She wasn't the child any more than needed rescuing. She had saved her-fucking-self. But just because it was old news didn't mean she liked rehashing it, but how she had been treated, and others she had met along the way had shaped the idea that would one day become the Foundation. 

She continued, better to get it over and done with, rip the plaster off in one go, "I ran away when I was ten, managed to make my way to London, not something I recommend for a ten-year-old. The streets are harsh enough for adults, but I made some of my first friends; eventually, and I realised that the world was more broken than I realised. I was convinced for so long that there was something wrong with me, something about me needed to be fixed. But on the streets, I realised it wasn't. I was found and dragged back to my Aunt and Uncle three months later."

At the time she had thought it was the police, but the reality of it was that it had been Aurors, it was the first time she had met Kingsley, she remembered him wrapping her up in his cloak to stop her from shivering and giving her a chocolate frog.

"At eleven, I found out the truth about my parents, that they were actually members of a counter-terrorist intelligence agency and had been murdered by a terrorist. I had survived the attack, I found out about my boarding school and that I had a trust fund. I won't bore you with the rest; I went to school though I still had to go back every summer until I left just before my seventeenth birthday," Holly paused, wetting her bottom lip. She could remember the weeks after the Final Battle, with a shattered soul and a battered body receiving a full brake down of everything in her name. It had brought a little bit of light, a little bit of hope to know she could set out achieving her dream despite still hunting down Riddle's followers. Despite still being knee deep in blood and death. 

Taking a breath, she continued, "Once I received full access to my heritage and my inheritance from my godfather I worked towards setting up the Foundation. I wanted it to be a Sanctuary to those who needed it, regardless of why they did. It took time, but eventually, I did it. I created a place that would keep people safe from harm, kids that didn't have anyone to stand up for them, adults that need somewhere to get them off the streets or out of a bad situation. It grew and expanded from there."

"Your godfather really was an escaped convict, that was why you lived with your aunt and uncle," Steve bit though clenched teeth. 

Holly looked up at him, she had forgotten that truth she had revealed but had been unable to confirm as Hydra Agents showing up had taken their attention. 

"He was in the same agency as my parents, my dad's best friend. He went after the man that betrayed my parents and was set up. He spent thirteen years in prison before escaping to keep me safe from the real culprit," Holly admitted, a bitter smile crossing her lips. "He was found innocent when new evidence came to light after his murder."

"Why, Evans-Black, why not Potter?" Stark asked, awkwardness tingeing his voice that one didn't expect to find, not when he came across as confident as he did. But then Holly knew better than most to never judge a book by its cover. 

"Evans was my mother's maiden name, and Black was my godfather's name. He came from a similar home environment, I figured it was fitting."

"Do you want drinks?" she asked, breaking the silence in the room, and giving her something to do other than stand there under the weight of everyone's gazes. Pain was starting to push its way forward. Holly was all too aware of her arm burning, her ribs aching and exhaustion currently twisting around her.

She would crash soon. Everything she had done to keep Clint and Jax alive and her own injuries catching up to her. She still had so much to do tonight, or early morning, whatever time it actually was, before she could let herself genuinely rest. She wondered how much longer the Healers would be. How long had it been since she had arrived? An hour, maybe two.

"Sure, I will help," Sam replied softly, moving towards the kitchen and gathering mugs from the cupboard she pointed at. They weren't stupid; they all knew it was a distraction that she was filling the awkward silence that had descended on them. She couldn't decide if they played along to humour her, or out of guilt that they were asking these questions.

Bruce settled into the large armchair, looking far worse than she was feeling, his transformation taking its toll on his body. She couldn't help but wonder if a potion would help ease the effects, make it less of a strain for him. 

The others settled down within the room, she could see the tension in them, the weariness crossing their faces and the concern for their fallen comrade, and a wave of underlying anger vibrating through both Steve and Bucky. Sam helped her with the drinks, throwing her side looks, but not actually saying anything. 

"So what exactly is this place, Sanctuary?" Steve asked, frowning slightly. He was hiding his anger very carefully, ensuring nothing slipped to the surface their fingers brushing as she passed him his drink

"Foundation Safe House," Holly answered, "We added the Clinic to help those that needed it but couldn't afford the health insurance or going to a hospital."

"And the kids?"

"Depends on the circumstances, runaways, orphans with no living family, others somehow connected or involved in criminal activity such as drug running," Holly answered, taking a sip of her tea, she had laced it with pain relief potion. "You will be surprised at what some sick-minded individuals are willing to do with kids."

"Nobody looks twice at a kid," Natasha said coldly.

Holly glanced at the woman her face blank before replying, "You don't usually expect children as young as seven or eight to have drugs on them. Some people notice them, people that ask questions, and people that try to help. The Foundation is one of those places, I don't have a problem cutting through red tape when it suits my purpose, which doesn't exactly make the Foundation that popular with the authorities, but it helps."

"And the dead for three years part?" Stark asked, his curiosity piquing once again. 

"You are relentless, do you know that?" Holly jested, in an attempt to break the tension. It didn't work.

"You aren't the first person to say that," he said drily, "I'm not sure how much of a compliment it is though."

Holly took another sip of her tea, leaned back against the counter, letting it support her just a little. She didn't want to sit down, she wasn't sure she would get back up. 

"Four years ago, the Foundation became aware that a few children we were supporting had disappeared."

"Wait, isn't this why you left the Foundation, your records and reference, hell the report even states that it was only a year ago," Stark pointed out. 

"Tony," Steve hissed. 

"It wasn't. It was four years ago, and I investigated for three months before I led a team to their location," Holly answered, "The report was correct in the fact that my team was ambushed, even if the dates were wrong. But then, nobody filed an official report."

She paused, old memories stirred, things she would rather forget about. She took a breath.

"We were ambushed, and my team was killed. I survived, though at the time I wished I hadn't," Holly admitted, closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath.

"Hols," Bucky said softly, understanding lacing his tone, "How long?"

She wasn't surprised he understood her implication first, not if he experienced it firsthand.

"Ten months. I was their prisoner for ten months," she replied, opening her eyes, focusing on the wall in front of her. If she could continue on with a clinical note, detached, then she didn't have to relive it again. 

"I eventually escaped," she continued, though in truth her escape was down to several things and none of them had involved any great skill. 

Pain. Coldness. Darkness followed by fire, screams, a hunger she hadn't been able to contain and death. She pushed the thoughts away, swallowed the lump forming in the back of her throat and pressed on.

"I found my way home, to the right people, and after my injuries were treated, I realised I had been presented with an opportunity I couldn't pass. I was MIA initially and eventually as time wore on and far as anybody else was concerned presumed dead. Staying that way simply meant I would be able to move unseen and find those responsible and put a stop to them. Can't exactly defend yourself against an enemy if you think you have killed them."

"You thought it was an inside job," Natasha said softly, admiration shining in her eyes, "It's what I would do. Lull them into a false sense of security."

Holly couldn't fault her logic; she had been concerned it was an inside job, not from somebody in the Foundation, but rather in the Wizarding World in general. She had learnt early on precisely who was responsible in the muggle world.

"It wasn't just an inside job I was concerned about," Holly said, "I was moved around a lot in the facility I was kept, mostly under sedation, but I was conscious enough most of the time. I remember one particular room, clear as mud, grey walls, black emblem on the walls. One that was unforgettable and unmistakable."

"Hydra," Steve whispered.

Holly shook her head, she knew it had been Hydra at the time, but it wasn't their symbol that had painted that wall, and it wasn't their symbol that had stayed in her mind. 

"SHIELD." 

The silence followed was deafening.

"Son of a bitch!" Steve cursed.

"Though you were right in your first instance also, it was Hydra, an organisation that the history books claimed was defeated in 1945, at the heart of an extra-governmental military counter-terrorism and intelligence agency. Letting the world believe I was dead was the safest solution." 

"You knew before Hydra revealed itself," Steve said, realisation crossing his face.

"I did," Holly confirmed, meeting his gaze with her own, "but who would have believed me." 

"How did you escape, they wouldn't have risked that information from getting out?"

"They made a mistake not double checking I was actually dead when they thought I was."

"And in the last three years?" Stark asked. 

"Tracking Hydra. Working out how they were connected to SHIELD, learning as much as I could about their plans, finding out the fact it was more than just a few missing children and that it had been going on far longer than I first realised."

"You tried to stop Hydra on your own," Bucky stated, his eyes fixing her with an unreadable look.

"It wouldn't be the first time I have faced impossible odds," she said softly, looking down at her cup, "It was only after Hydra revealed to the world that they were in fact still around, the fact that they were trying to take over the world that I realised that I wouldn't be able to do it alone."

"And so you came to work with us," Steve confirmed.

"Yeah," she admitted with a nod, taking a sip of her drink.

"Why exactly didn't you say anything, to begin with?" Stark pointed out, a hint of accusation lacing his words. 

Holly couldn't say whether he intended to or not, but she could hear it never the less.

"You found out my name and that I was the soulmate to both Captain America and the Winter Soldier and you slapped a contract my way. A tight iron one, would you have believed me if I spoke out then?" she asked with a bitter smile and cocked eyebrow. "You looked at me as if I was a villain from the get-go just for existing, what exactly would have made the difference if you found out I had been kept prisoner by Hydra for ten months. Would you have believed me?"

Anger simmered beneath her skin, as old memories stirred. A reminder that when she had spoken the truth before and hadn't been believed. The Wizarding World had called her a liar, declared her mad and unstable. Holly hadn't had any intention of being anything more than an employee. Hadn't had any plan of sticking around once she had found her information out. She would have just been a nameless face one that disappeared in a blink of an eye. 

But fate had complicated things. 

"Were it not for the soulmarks, none of you would have looked twice in my direction," she said coldly. 

It shouldn't hurt, she shouldn't care, not in the slightest. She had learned that lesson long ago the majority of people only tried to get to know her because of something she was, or did and not for whom she really was. Why would now be any different?

_That is unfair,_ and Holly knew that as well, how the Wizarding World treated her was not Bucky or Steve's fault. They didn't owe her anything, and she didn't owe them anything, something she had said to them. The three of them were one awkward broken tangle, and they didn't know what to do with each other. Except they were trying to make an effort in getting to know her, and as much as she was trying to keep them at arm's length, she was finding herself responding in kind. 

Except the voice in the back of her mind, a voice that she couldn't get rid of no matter how hard she tried whispered in her ear _that they were only looking her way because of the marks. Without them, they wouldn't care._ Holly knew that was true and she couldn't allow herself to fall into the trap of thinking this was anything more than what it was. Yet despite the fact she knew she shouldn't care, Holly couldn't say that it didn't hurt. 

"How do we know you aren't under Hydra's control?" Stark asked, "They clearly have the capability." 

Holly ignored the stab of pain that twisted in her gut, at least they didn't think she was Hydra, just mind-controlled by them. 

"Lady Potter wielded Mjolnir tonight, she would not have been able to have had she been under the influence of another's will with less worthy goals. She is worthy and has proven that in battle," Thor said, cutting across the room like a knife through butter. 

She glanced towards him, and he nodded in silent support. He knew what she wasn't saying, what she couldn't say. 

"So a magical hammer says she is worthy and we can't be concerned about mind control?" Stark argued, "I'm not saying she is Hydra, I'm just saying she could be under their control."

"Tony, enough," Steve warned. 

She wasn't sure she could argue with Stark's logic, not with how genuine the possibility was, and saying she wasn't wouldn't offer any comfort. Holly dared a glance at both Steve and Bucky. Bucky was deadly silent, his face void of emotion, his eyes cold and the bonds were still hidden by a layer of ice she couldn't penetrate. 

Until his blue eyes met hers. Understanding shone in them. Holly swallowed slowly. Her ten months paled in comparison to his decades with Hydra, but he understood to a degree what she had experienced, even if he would never know everything. Steve opened his mouth to speak, just as the door opened, everyone's attention snapping to it. An exhausted Katie stepped through, her brown eyes glancing around the room, a frown crossing her face at the visible tension. 

"Is everything okay?" Steve asked.

"Yes, both surgeries were successful, both your colleagues are being taken to private rooms, you are welcome to go and see them though I would limit it to one or two visitors at a time and I must advise they are still out of it."

Natasha moved to her feet instantly. 

"One of the nurses will take you through," Katie smiled. 

"Thank you, Doctor," Steve said. 

"No thanks are needed, healing people is my job," Katie replied, before turning her attention to Holly, "Are you going to let me treat your injuries now?"

Holly was aware of the weighted glances thrown back in her direction. 

"You're injured?" Steve asked, a wince crossing his face at the failure to recognise that she was. 

"I'm fine," she muttered, "The main office okay? I hate hospital rooms."

Katie blinked, "Depends on how bad that arm is?"

"Office or I'm going home now so I can pass out."

"I'd forgotten how stubborn you actually are when you put your mind to it, Holly. Fine, office it is."

Holly pushed herself away from the counter, walking across the room before pausing at the door before turning back to them in the room, "We aren't going to be able to move Clint or Jax back to the Tower tonight, I will have rooms made up for each of you. Help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen."

She followed behind Katie, up a flight of stairs to the first floor, towards the office that took up the back room. The door shutting behind them.

"You aren't going to let me heal you are you?"

"If you can do it quickly, I need to Floo back to England, I have a lot to do before everything spirals out of control."

"Damn it, Holly, what is going on?"

"I can't say, not right now. I know it's not fair, but you trusted me in the fifth year when others didn't, I need you to trust me again."

"I've always trusted you, Holly," Katie replied, "Now let me look at your arm."

It hurt, treating her arm, but Katie did quick work of numbing it enough to allow her to pull away from the melted clothing, the problem was it took a lot of her skin with it. Even with the numbing charm, it still hurt. It took everything she had not to scream. Her time with Hydra had hardened her to pain to the point blacking out was a pipe dream she had chased only for it to be denied her again and again.

"I'm against you travelling through the Floo, for the record, you look dead on your feet, and you need to rest."

"Noted," Holly muttered as she charmed the remains of her top into a light t-shirt that wouldn't rest on her arm. 

"But you are still going to go."

"You know me, I walk off death," she smiled. 

Katie threw her a pointed look, before responding. "I want to check on that arm when you get back. It's five hours before dawn, I don't know how early our guests are going to be up, but I suggest you use your time well before they start asking questions."

"They don't know about magic," Holly warned. 

"I will handle it. I will see you in a few hours."

Holly nodded her head before moving towards the Fireplace. A wave of her wand, flames flared to life, grabbing a handful of floor powder she stepped into the fire. 

"Rosewood Cottage," she said clearly, dropping the powder at her feet. 

A whoosh of green flames engulfed her, before snapping her away from Sanctuary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite my best attempts of ignoring the urge to follow an idea for a new story, outside of one-shots, I have started working on another story. It will be Harry Potter/Avengers crossover as well, and I am only a few chapters but it's not disappearing from my mind. It will be some time before I start posting for it, as I do want to focus on Red Threads of Fate but it's also demanding to be written so I am going to listen to my muse and see what happens.  
X  
I have had Tumblr for a while, and started posting on there in connection to this story when I first started, I stopped posting mostly because I forgot about it but have recently started to use it more for this story, sneak peeks, snippets, things I find amusing and any news that maybe important so please feel free to come and say hi and ask questions.
> 
> My name is below:-  
phant0m-queen.tumblr.com


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who had read, commented, bookmarked, and subscribed and kudos this story. I am truly awed by how many are enjoying this story. Thank you for being patient with me since I last updated.  
Real Life took a turn for us all in the last few months, and I like many others have found it difficult to find the time and sit down and let the creative juices do their work. I wanted to write, but a combination of work, being yelled at daily by strangers, working longer hours and at times seven days a week meant I retreated. I found it difficult to construct sentences together and put words onto a paper. On top of that my medical condition flared, which resulted time in hospital (non virus related) despite spending twenty-four hours on a Covid-19 Ward as a doctor put on my notes 'suspected Covid-19' which was certainly an eye opener to exactly what it is they are dealing with in hospitals right now, the news really doesn't do it justice compared to seeing it firsthand.  
I hope all of you have been able to stay safe these last few months and are being kind to yourself if you are not having the energy/motivation/desire to do anything but retreat. For other writers who are possibly struggling at the moment to write anything you are not alone, allow yourself some time away if you need to, remember to breathe and ease the pressure you are putting on yourself. For all my readers, your feelings are natural right now you are not alone. Be kind to yourself, allow yourself little indulgences if they aren't going to add any extra pressure, strain or anxiety to you right now and remember to breathe. For those of you who are trying their hand at homeschooling, juggling working from home and entertaining your children you are doing a brilliant job in extraordinary circumstances, even if it doesn't feel like it. Schedules are nonexistent, not everyone is able to maintain a healthy lifestyle right now and that is okay. To those who work in shops, warehouses, food factories, care homes, hospitals, schools, emergency services, pharmacies and all other key services, thank you. I am sorry you are having to deal with the shit you are dealing with right now and the abuse that is being thrown your way by some.  
Be kind to yourself and to others.  
XXX  
I hope you enjoy the next chapter, I am more nervous about posting this one than previous ones, probably because it has been some time since I last updated.  
I have updated my tags as well, and will do so as new things start entering the story.  
Any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

**Chapter 12:-**

It was his daughter's laughter that pulled his attention from washing the breakfast pots. It wasn't the laughter she usually made when something entertained her or the soft laugh when she was occupying herself. It was her unique laugh, one that Rose only ever seemed to make for one person, and one he had tried to coax out of her himself, and had failed terribly to do so. 

Despite knowing his wards were intact, and that none of the early warning systems his wife had charmed in place was blaring to life, Ron, let his wand fall to his hand as he made the short distance from the kitchen to the living room. It may have been years since the war, years since he had retired from active duty as an Auror yet Ron couldn't break the habit of ensuring he was armed and alert at all times. He could admit to himself that the alertness had changed to register the dangers that came with having a child, and Rose certainly kept him on his toes, then to that of unexpected intruders. But even so, the years hadn't softened him. His whole body shifted into a stance that would allow him to attack and defend at a moment's notice should there be an actual threat, Ron doubted he would ever genuinely relax, not how he used to before Hogwarts, before the war.

Narrowed eyes swept across the living room before settling on the scene unfolding. Tiny multicoloured dragons flew in sync with each other in a complicated sequence while breathing fire every so often. His daughter watched on with pure enjoyment crossing her little face as her eyes widened and hands reached up every time a dragon flew close to her. Ron let the tension ease from his shoulders safely tucking his wand back into his sleeve. Holly was kneeling next to his daughter a smile he rarely saw these days crossing her lips. It was nice to see her carefree, untroubled in a few precious moments of peace from whatever worldly weight that rested on her shoulders. Ron had hoped the pressure would ease off his friend after Riddle's defeat, but if anything it only seemed to grow, and Holly had become more withdrawn, more secretive, more guarded than she had ever been at Hogwarts. 

Ron wasn't entirely sure when the universe had decided that his best friend should be the one to solve its many problems, but it seemed that even after Riddle's defeat she wasn't going to catch a break. Ron was content to stay silent, happy to let his best friend have the precious time with his daughter without forcing her to face the outside world, but Rose caught sight of him, and giggled as she pointed, "Daddy, dragons."

Holly's attention snapped to him, the smile still there, but Ron couldn't help but notice the weariness on her face, the hollow look in her eyes and the lingering shadows that filled them.

"Aren't the dragons pretty?" he acknowledged his daughter softly. 

Rose giggled in response, before turning her attention back to the dragons who were circling her as though they were leaves in the wind. 

"Hi Ron," Holly greeted, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"You look like hell."

It was blunt; he knew that Hermione would have called him out for had she been there. But he couldn't hold back his concern, and he _knew_ Holly well enough now to know she would wave anything off unless he was blunt. Holly was good at taking care of others, but she was awful at taking care of herself. 

She snorted softly, "It was a rough night."

"You're hurt."

"I'll live."

"You need sleep," he argued, his gut twisting as that concern simmered away inside of him. Holly had never been good at self-preservation of taking care of herself but even she usually rested when she was injured. The fact she was here now, dead on her feet was important and Ron knew it was going to be bad. 

"I can't sleep yet, too much to do," Holly countered, worrying at her bottom lip. "We need to launch Excalibur."

His stomach turned to lead. Dread stretched through him. There it was, the axe falling. Ron closed his eyes for a moment, stealing himself for what was to come. They had prepared for this. For the eventuality that it would come down to a fight. That the Wizarding World would need to know. Ron had just hoped they would never have to use it. Never have to activate it. But it was the whole reason Holly had let everyone believe she was dead. The fact that she was invoking the protocols now meant something they had all feared had happened. He opened his eyes, Ron didn't want to think about what it meant, not when his two and half year old daughter was sitting on the floor, entertained by flying dragons Holly had conjured and blissfully unaware of the events unfolding around her. He had more to lose, so much more now, but it meant he would fight harder to keep them all safe.

He couldn't panic. Panicking would do nothing. 

"I will message Hermione, and you can get some sleep while we wait for her to come home, she had an early meeting but should be back in a couple of hours. I will wake you when she does."

She didn't argue, which told him everything he needed to know about how tired she was. 

"How bad is it Holly?" he asked because he needed to know, Ron wanted the time to prepare himself before he heard the whole story. 

"It's a declaration," she said, "of war."

His stomach dropped. 

They had been afraid of that, fearful that Hydra was declaring war, afraid of so many possibilities, but having them confirmed, having the theories made into a reality, was worse.

They had survived one war barely. 

Ron wasn't sure they would survive another one, especially if it involved the muggle world but more important than the Wizarding World as a whole he wasn't sure Holly would survive another war.

* * *

The silence that followed Holly's departure hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass hit the ground and shattered. Sam could feel it crawling across his skin, as the realisation of what she had said what she had opened up about truly hit him. The air was thick and heavy with what she hadn't said; the unspoken words, gaps in the story that could only mean one thing and left no room for doubt in his mind of exactly what she had suffered at the hands of Hydra. Sam took a sip of his now cold coffee, hiding his grimace behind his mug, watching the others closely as he digested this new information. The dots were joining together in his mind as everything started to add up. He couldn't lie and say everything made sense, there was still missing links, but Holly's revelation meant the bigger picture was growing in size. It might not explain why Holly gave the impression she was a soldier, but it certainly explained her scars and her cautious nature, and her panic attack in the medical wing. 

Sam glanced at the others. Guilt was visible across Stark's face, a surprise in his opinion, not that Sam thought the other man didn't feel it, but rather that he was showing it so visibly. Out of all the Avengers, Stark was the one he had the least contact with, despite living in the Tower with him, but from those brief times, their paths had crossed in the last nine months, with him busy sorting things out back home to move from DC to New York to help Steve find Bucky. Something that had become null and void when Bucky showed up at the Tower just over a month later. Yet regardless of how little they interacted, Sam got the impression that Stark rarely let people see what he truly felt. Hiding behind his sarcasm, intelligence and playboy image as though it was his shield. Most of the time, he was in his lab, working on his latest invention or updating his suits or creating something that would help the team. His eyes darted to Natasha. A guarded look crossed her face before she disappeared after a doctor, no doubt in his mind she was going to check on Clint. Bruce looked exhausted, fighting to stay awake, so it was hard to gauge what exactly he was feeling, and Thor appeared to be looking inward, deep in thought with an understanding of the universe that Sam could never hope to comprehend.

He darted a look between Steve and Bucky. Steve had withdrawn inwards, as much as he was able to do so as the crushing weight of guilt, anger and pain pressed down on him. Sam didn't need to be an expert in being able to read that. His body language screamed it. Arms crossed defensively, head down trying to ensure he showed as little of what he was feeling as possible and avoiding eye contact—the slight sagging of his shoulders. Bucky was cold retreating into the programming of the Winter Soldier. Something Sam had no doubt he didn't even realise he was doing, but it made him unreadable. Sam had no doubt guilt would be eating him up. The gut-wrenching possibility that his and Holly's paths had crossed during her ten months with Hydra. There was no way they wouldn't know that she was the soulmate to both him and Steve, and they would have likely used it to their advantage. Sam knew that Bucky was more than likely thinking whether he was responsible in some part in hurting Holly and he couldn't remember. Sam didn't think that was likely, not with what he had seen of their interactions, while wary of him, Holly treated Bucky more normal than anyone else, even Steve, who was trying his damn hardest, in every way he could. Yet Holly was as unreadable as Bucky at times and was giving nothing away to indicate she had crossed paths with Bucky before. If she had, she would have known he was her soulmate at the time and the surprise had been genuine when they had first met. 

Sam let out a sigh as he moved around the kitchen counter to pour the remains of his coffee in the sink and make a fresh batch. As much as he knew he needed sleep, to regain his strength, not everyone had super-soldier serum running through their veins, or was an Asgardian; he knew there was still too much to do. He needed to ensure Steve and Bucky were okay, check in with the other agents. Usually, Natasha and Clint touched base with the others when Hill wasn't around, but Natasha was like a tightly coiled spring ready to snap at a moment's notice until she had checked on Clint herself. It meant he needed to do it and to do that he needed coffee, lots and lots of coffee.

He was aware of somebody moving behind him; he didn't need to be a super-soldier or a hotshot spy to be mindful of his surroundings. Sam glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see the blonde-haired woman, _Tracey,_ Holly had called her. Blue eyes met his gaze studying him, and Sam couldn't shake the feeling that she was assessing him. The emotion in her eyes was fathoms deep, and Sam couldn't even begin to unravel everything he was seeing. Her face gave nothing away, though he couldn't help but take note of the scar on her neck, as though someone had tried to slit her throat and failed badly, _or succeeded and she survived._

He gave a warm smile, the kind his grandmother had always found comfort with, on the bad days where she couldn't remember her name let alone him, but had always stated he had a friendly smile. 

"Tracey, right? I'm Sam," he greeted, holding out his hand.

Sam couldn't say precisely how long she stared at his hand before taking it, and while he couldn't say it was a friendly warm greeting he got in return, it wasn't completely cold or dismissive. 

"Where is Holly?" she inquired, not even bothering to hide the accusation lacing her words. 

Sam couldn't say what she suspected them of or even what she was accusing them of but he heard it none the less. 

"She went with the Doctor, uh, to the office to get her injuries looked at."

"Of course she was injured," Tracey muttered under her breath, "that is just so typical of her."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked concern evident in his tone, as he leant against the kitchen counter, his attention fixed on Tracey.

Sam had to give Tracey credit; she didn't flinch under the intensity of Captain America's glance. Instead, she swept her gaze towards Steve, her eyes hardening as she looked up at the man, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow that screamed _'I'm not impressed'_ before she answered. 

"Holly tends to ignore herself for the sake of others. She will tell you she is fine with a sword sticking out of her if other people are in danger or need help. She puts them first."

Sam made a note, filing it away for later, no doubt in his mind that information was going to be vitally important in the future. Primarily if Holly worked more and more with the Avengers, he shared a look with Steve, before turning his attention back to Tracey. 

"If people need her, she moves heaven and hell to help them. Doesn't matter the personal cost to her, she will still do it; she's the person you want on your side. She's just not very good at taking care of herself," she continued, meeting Steve's gaze, though Sam could admit it had softened slightly, "Don't feel bad that you didn't know she was injured. She isn't going to tell you when she is injured. She isn't going to tell you when something is wrong, and she is going to be damn surprised if you notice, because Holly is used to people only seeing what they want to see and nothing else."

"How likely is going to have a sword sticking out of her?" Steve asked softly; concern flickered in his eyes.

"About a hundred per cent, though I admit the sword is probably a metaphor. I know in our second year Holly was playing a house game with a broken arm. She didn't want to stop and let her team down. The break was pretty bad."

"She has a high threshold for pain."

"She hasn't had a choice for anything different," Tracey said softly, "Holly's stubborn. She doesn't know when to quit, even when quitting is the best thing for her."

Silence hung in the air between them, and Sam shifted uncomfortably. He was getting used to the people around him having more secrets, and more layers than even he could fathom, but the idea of people being in pain and not being able to do anything about it didn't sit well with him. It was one of the reasons he had started working for the Department of Veterans Affairs. To give people the help they needed, a place to talk, a place to come out of the cold void and start to heal. He knew what it was like to be screaming inside, too afraid to open your mouth in case the scream escaped and never stopped. Yet equally fearful that nobody would ever hear, ever see just how much it hurt to breathe, hurt to think and hurt to close your eyes. When all there had been was darkness, and rage, and pain and grief and the cold slithering powerlessness that wormed it's way inside and never let you forget it. He had watched Riley die, helpless and powerless to stop it. Over and over again. He understood Holly helping others, a drive that pushed her through whatever she was feeling. She hadn't been able to help herself at various points in her life, she had felt helpless, and nobody had taken notice, so she pushed herself to take note now and help others. Whatever the cost. Every Veteran he helped, every Veteran he saved from the abyss that swallowed them all made him feel a little less helpless and helped him make up for not being able to save Riley. 

Steve had withdrawn into himself again, his thoughts writing themselves across his face. 

"How long have you known Holly?" he asked, changing the conversation to something a little lighter. It allowed him to satisfy his curiosity, pouring himself a coffee and refilling other cups that seemed to magically produce themselves on the kitchen counter as soon as the kettle boiled. Funny how that always seemed to happen for whoever the sucker was that stated they were making a drink. 

"We went to the same boarding school, I wouldn't say we were friends exactly, we were in different schoolhouses, but everyone knew who Holly was even if they didn't know her."

The guarded look was back in Tracey's eyes, as she moved to pour hot water in her cup, over loose tea leaves. Sam caught the slight scent of liquorice and something he couldn't name.

"So when exactly did you become friends then?"

She shot him a look and smirked slightly, "Nice try."

His eyes widened in surprise as he gave his best innocent expression he could. The kind that said butter wouldn't melt. 

Tracey huffed, "Holly's the queen of that look, and you don't even hold a candle to her."

"Ouch, that almost hurt my feelings," he chuckled. 

"Only almost?" Tracey cocked an eyebrow, amusement glistening, before softening as she looked, "Your rooms are on the second floor. Just follow the stairs up, and you can't go wrong. There are three bathrooms on that floor as well."

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. It's Holly's foundation. I may not know why she has been playing dead for the last three years, or even why she has chosen now to come back to life. But I know that if she has, it's not going to be good and it's not going to be pretty," Tracey picked up her drink, and moved towards the second door, "Sanctuary offers aid to those who need it. I just hope whatever is coming our way won't require it as much as I fear."

Sam wasn't sure how to respond to that, not that Tracey gave him a chance as she walked out of the kitchen and further into the building. 

Steve turned towards him as Tracey left the room. 

"What do you think?"

"She's hiding something," Bucky stated, as he approached, not giving him the chance to answer. 

"Interrogating them isn't going to make you any friends," Sam jibbed back, before turning his attention to Steve, ignoring the muttered, "I'm not here to make friends," from Bucky. 

"He is right though, she is hiding something, or rather she isn't saying everything. She is protective of Holly. Did you spot the scar on her neck, my guess is Holly's saved her life, and that has earned her loyalty. Still, something tells me Holly is the loyal inspiring person." Sam sighed softly, "We have been unloaded with a lot of information tonight, we got our ass's handed to us by Hydra and Enhanced individuals, and then Holly drops a bombshell on us that she has been held captive by Hydra. It explains a lot, but there are a lot of gaps that she isn't telling."

"Is she right, Holly I mean, did we treat her like a villain from the beginning?" Steve asked, guilt dripping from every word and his brow creased together.

"The contract hasn't exactly earned us brownie points," Sam confirmed softly, "And considering Hydra had her for ten months, there isn't a chance in hell they don't know about her connection to you." 

"What do we do Sam?"

"Talk to her. Don't push this; she isn't going to open up if we corner her," Sam answered, "Wait for her to come to you and open up. That doesn't mean you can't let her know that you are there at the same time."

Steve sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. "We should probably take those rooms. Nat won't want to leave Clint, and he won't be ready to move yet. I would rather we were all one place, especially while some of us are injured. I will try and sort out arrangements for moving back to the Tower later."

Sam nodded his head, "I will go and check-in with the others. Let Tank know about Jax."

"Just remember to get some rest."

Sam flashed Steve, a grin, "I will if you will."

Bucky snorted, which Sam responded by flipping him the bird before making his way to the Clinic. It had been a long night, and while his body needed sleep, he doubted he would get much sleep. 

* * *

Natasha surveyed the room as she stepped through the door, tilting her head as she listened to the doctor give a breakdown of what had been wrong, and what they had done to fix it. Though Natasha couldn't help but notice that he was oddly vague to a degree in exactly how they had fixed it, still, common sense told her Clint wouldn't be fit for missions any time soon. Not after having surgery on his heart, yet the doctor seemed to be under the impression he would recover quickly. 

She gave a nod of her head, indicating she didn't have any further questions before both the doctor and nurse left the room, leaving her alone with Clint. Natasha turned her attention to him, taking a seat next to the bed, moving it ever so slightly, so she had a clear view of the bed and the door, before turning her attention to Clint. He was pale, to pale for her liking, his breathing in sync with the beeping machines that monitored his heart rate. It wasn't like other hospital rooms she had been in before, not even SHIELD facilities. It had something they didn't, though Natasha wasn't sure she could put her finger on exactly what that something was, but it gave her a sense of calmness she wasn't sure she would have felt had they been at a hospital. As though they were truly safe from harm here. As if they had found Sanctuary. 

Natasha didn't want to trust that feeling. Wasn't sure she knew how to trust it. It lulled you in with a false sense of security before striking. She shifted in her seat, her eyes scanning every crook and cranny of the room, just to make sure nobody was hiding in the corners, before fixing her attention onto Clint, vigilant until he woke. Nothing, _nothing,_ was going to happen to him on her watch. She had made a promise long ago, and she intended to keep it. Clint would always come back alive to his family; she wouldn't have it any other way.

She couldn't say how long she was there before his eyes started to flutter and open as he slowly came round. 

"You look like hell," he garbled, their gazes locking, though Natasha could see how he was struggling to focus on her. 

Her lips twitched upward ever so slightly, "You stole my line."

He gave a chuckle which quickly turned into a groan, "Ow, don't make me laugh."

"I will be sure to keep my jokes to myself."

"How bad is it?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him, "Do you mean you, or in general?"

"I figured I was bad already, you're visiting me in a hospital bed, and we don't do that."

She gave a tight smile, ignoring the tightening of her heart, "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

"Deal," he groaned.

The smile widened just a smidge, but she would deny it if Clint were ever to call her out on it. She answered wearily, "It was a trap. Weapons were never there, other than to use against us. You and Jax were the severely injured. Two dead and the others will recover."

"And where exactly are we?"

"Holly has brought us to a Foundation Clinic; she is the founder of the Foundation."

"Who knew," he said roughly, though Natasha knew it wasn't a question. 

"She was abused." Cutting and straight to the point, keeping to the facts. She didn't beat around the bush; it wasted precious energy. 

He shot her a look before responding, "Are you surprised?" 

Natasha couldn't say she was. The signs were there if one knew what they were looking for and how to read them. 

"No."

"But that's all, is it. How long did you say I was out for exactly?" Clint smiled. Natasha knew what he was doing, humour to distract, it was a weak attempt, but an attempt none the less. 

"It can wait," she muttered softly, taking his hand in hers, her mind whirling with the information she had just learnt, digesting it, connecting dots - seeing patterns. He gave her hand a squeeze, blue eyes looked at her intently, almost as if he was about to argue with her, but at the last minute, he decided against it.

"Are you going to tell Laura?" he whispered, a hint of fatigue creeping its way into his words. 

"You bet your ass, I am," she confirmed, "I don't keep secrets from your wife. When you are out of here of course and she can hear your voice."

He fell back against his pillow with a groan, eyes closed, "She is going to chew my ass out."

"Without a doubt," Natasha hummed in agreement, "but at least you have an ass to chew out. I don't want to have to take back your body to your family Clint."

He opened one eye and looked at her. 

"Is that your way of saying you're glad I'm not dead?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Natasha snorted, in mock outrage, "I don't do sentiments."

"Don't believe you," Clint jibbed. 

"You're entitled to your opinion, regardless of whether it is wrong."

He stifled a yawn, though Natasha couldn't help but see the tiredness creeping across his face, "Man, whatever they gave me might be keeping the pain away, but god I'm tired."

"It's because you're getting old," she deadpanned. 

"Ouch, Nat, that was a low blow. It could be down to the surgery, you know, the heart surgery I just had?"

"My mistake, your age has nothing to do with it."

"If I weren't so tired right now, I would stay awake just to bug you."

Natasha looked at him, a smirk curving her lips, as she watched him struggle to keep his eyes open and stifle another yawn. 

"An empty threat. Rest Clint."

Silence fell, Clint, having shut his eyes and fallen asleep without so much as another word. She leaned back in the chair she was sitting on, not letting go of Clint's hand. 

"I'm glad you aren't dead," she whispered, to his sleeping form, and she was, more than he would probably ever know. Forming attachments was a weakness she couldn't allow herself not in the long term. But for now, in the safety of his room, in a place called Sanctuary, she would allow herself this moment. A moment of peace before she put her mask back on and tackled the underbelly of the world she called home.

* * *

Tony knew the taste of guilt and the feel of it. It didn't sit heavy on his chest but inside his brain. Forever replaying, over and over until he could memorise every detail of where he went wrong and how many dues he needed to pay. If was going, to be honest, his tally was too goddamn high as it was, and wasn't likely to ever reduce in this lifetime. Things he had done he couldn't undo. He could make amends in subtle ways, but there were days he wasn't sure he would ever be able to wash clean his sins. 

He learnt from them. He adapted, just as he had with his very first Iron Man suit. He learnt by ensuring Rhodey's suit was top notch. Subtle wasn't his speciality, he went full force ahead, never stopping. He knew his flaws better than most people realised. He hadn't meant to corner Potter, for a second time. First with the contract, and again tonight, but the gaps in the knowledge they had of her presented a threat and one he couldn't afford to take with his team, because whether they realised it or not they were his. They had wormed their way through his armour to his gooey insides that made him all vulnerable. They weren't Rhodey, his precious Platypus, nor Happy, his ever-loyal friend. They weren't Pepper who knew him better than he knew himself most days of the week. They weren't family, not yet at the least, but they could be one day, and that was what was important. They were his, just as much as they were the Captain's. 

They had their kinks and rough edges where they didn't entirely trust each other, but they trusted enough to fight together to save the world together. So when new information presented itself, when he was able to poke and prod and see what cracked in the mystery that surrounded Holly Potter, he pushed and pushed damn hard. Tony hadn't expected her to push back, hadn't expected her to tell him she didn't owe them a fucking thing, but nor did he expect her to tell a part of her story.

Didn't he suddenly feel insignificant and tiny with every word that she poured forth. Abused. Held captivate. Tortured. One only had to look as far as Barnes to realise that she had no doubt suffered under Hydra's hands. She hadn't trusted them enough to reveal this information. 

He was a moron.

An idiot. 

He didn't know how to fix it. Holly's words repeated in his head, over and over again. It had been his idea with the contract, his lawyers that had come up with the details. 

_You looked at me as if I was a villain from the get-go just for existing, what exactly would have made the difference if you found out I had been kept prisoner by Hydra for ten months. Would you have believed me?_

It was why he had slipped out of the living room, as soon as he was able to. The Cap, and Wilson, and Barnes were distracted, talking to the blonde who had greeted Potter. As soon as Bruce had fallen asleep where he was sitting exhausted from his transformation, and Thor was deep in thought. He slipped out and made his way to what he could only describe as a playroom. A clear sign that children at some point had found refuge here if the drawings were anything to judge. And what drawings they were, he expected pictures of the Avengers, of superheroes, he did not expect pictures of dragons, and people were flying on broomsticks, and castle and mythical creatures. A mixture of fantasy and talent coming alive before his very eyes. 

Tony took a seat on a chair too small for him, as delicately as he could, and used the comms in his suit to communicate with Jarvis.

"Jarvis, buddy, can you reach Pepper for me please?" he sighed wearily. 

"Of course, Sir, calling Ms Potts."

Tony listened to the dial tone over the comms finding it oddly soothing, not that he had to wait long before the familiar, comforting voice of Pepper trickled over him. 

"Tony, are you okay? They are reporting on the news there was an incident with the Avengers in Brooklyn," she babbled, a sudden note of panic creeping into her voice.

"Already, man, they work fast," he chuckled, not that it fooled Pepper for one second. 

"Tony, what happened?" Her tone changed, a little more demanding, a little more cutting, knowing him well enough to know when he was avoiding something.

"I've screwed up, Pepper, and I don't know how to fix it," he sighed, closing his eyes to allow himself a moment to think, a moment to still his mind. 

She listened patiently waiting for him to speak, and he did, he unravelled it all the best way he could in his words. He didn't hear judgement in the silence, didn't feel it pressing against his skin as he often did from others, but then Pepper had never really judged him. There were times he had no doubt she wanted to pull her hair out when he aggravated her, and she wanted him to give up the suit, but Tony didn't feel he could do that, and it certainly put a strain on their relationship. There was no doubt about that, but she was his Pepper, his sounding board, his stillness when his mind wouldn't stop. 

"You haven't screwed up, not in an unfixable way that you seem to believe you have. Tony, you're human, too curious for your good, and you push people to get a rise out of them, just because you can most of the time," Pepper said kindly and calmly, "but it's not usually out of malice, unless its Senators."

"That was one-time Peps, and he turned out to be Hydra, so really I should be awarded a medal for showing the world he was a dick!" Tony cried. 

He heard Pepper's eye roll through the comms. She didn't have to say anything; he could picture it perfectly. 

"Do you want me to donate money to the foundation?"

"How about a Gala, then other rich people can donate as well," he chimed. 

"I will get started on it, and I will open communication with Mrs Tonks." There was a note of fear lacing Pepper's words, subtle, hardly noticeable, but the pitch in her voice changed ever so slightly, and he was more than used to all the pitches in her voice. 

"Is that fear I detect, Ms Potts."

"Caution," Pepper rebutted, "Unlike you, I have a healthy amount of common sense. Mrs Tonks is not a woman I intend to cross any time soon. You would do well to remember that, especially after what she did to Franklin Craver."

"Who?" He asked with a frown, racking his brains for the name. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why. 

"Exactly my point, Tony."

He huffed, before ensuring his voice was neutral as he asked the all-important question, "When are you coming home?"

"The jet is scheduled to leave tomorrow, I have two more meetings this afternoon, and then everything should be wrapped up in Hong Kong."

He nodded to himself, before speaking, "Good."

"Stay safe, Tony, and talk to Potter. Clear the air."

Yeah, he could do that maybe, without putting his foot in it. The funny thing was, he wanted to talk to her, without putting his foot in it. He understood shitty childhoods and toxic environments in a way that would surprise most people. He could appreciate Holly's need to want to do something about it and help change the way the world looked at things. 

* * *

Hermione stepped through the floo flames precisely three hours after her husband had messaged her. Gaze landing on the sleeping form of her friend, while her daughter snuggled in next to her. She scanned every inch of Holly, she could see the weariness crossing her face even in sleep, cuts and bruises on what skin was visible. Hermione bit at her bottom lip as worry flickered through her before she carefully sealed off their fireplace from the floo-network so they wouldn't have any unexpected visitors and set about strengthening the cottage wards. 

She had wanted to return home straight away; caution forced her to continue about her morning as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Hermione was well aware of the eyes that watched her every move in the office, and the moment she rushed off somewhere tongues would be wagging with speculation, and given the deadly game, they were playing, had been playing for the last three years, that simply wouldn't do. Hermione ignored the churning in the pit of her stomach, straightened her shoulders despite the heavy weight pressing against her, schooled her features and got on with work. Taking the time she had to wait to prioritise the information she had been gathering since their last check-in with Holly. To be honest, Hermione hadn't been expecting Holly to check-in for at least another six weeks - which meant that something was wrong, drastically wrong. 

The worry hadn't eased upon seeing her friend; in fact, the ball in her stomach only twisted tighter into a knot Hermione wasn't sure she would ever untangle. A floorboard creaked as she took a step towards the kitchen, and she watched in amazement as Holly snapped to attention. Wand in hand - spell already leaving her lips as she glided from one movement to the next off the sofa, shielding Rose in one arm tucked to her body as close as she could while she turned to face a threat. Hermione barely had a chance to raise her wand and cast the Shield Charm before Holly's spell hit it and frizzled into nothing as soon as it made contact. The sound brought Ron to the doorway in a blink of an eye. The three of them looked at each other in silence, before a smile broke out on Ron's face, amusement dancing in his eyes. Holly threw him a disgusted look as he snorted, before turning her attention to Rose, who despite the sudden movement still nestled into the crook of Holly's neck fast asleep.

"Sorry," Holly muttered, throwing a sheepish look as brown eyes looked on at her in concern. 

"You don't have to apologise; I had forgotten how quick your reflexes were," Hermione replied softly, softening her face as she dropped her shield and lowered her wand.

Holly glanced down at Rose, still asleep and utterly undisturbed by her sudden movement.

"She takes after Ron; nothing can wake her," Hermione sighed softly, with a roll of her eyes. "I have yet to decide if it is a good thing or not."

"Hey, it was a good thing, apart from waking up for her feeds she slept straight through," Ron cried in mock outrage, "She was nothing like Molly. Percy didn't get any sleep for the first eighteen months." 

Guilt twisted across her friends face before she desperately tried to hide it. 

"You don't have anything to feel guilty about Holly. We both know that if there were another way of dealing with this mess, you would be here. But we didn't see another option at the time."

"I know," Holly threw her another sheepish look, before schooling her features to give nothing away. She had forgotten how good Holly was at that. 

"You can put Rose down in her playpen, she will sleep for a while, we can talk in the kitchen. I will make you your favourite hot chocolate," Hermione declared leaving no room for argument.

She turned on her heel, gave a kiss to Ron as she passed before moving over to the kitchen counter. A wave of her wand resulted in three mugs floating down from the shelves as water boiled under the heating charm she cast. There were times when Hermione found comfort in the familiarity of doing things the muggle way. Not relying on magic, but right now, she used the charms as easy as breathing to allow her to gather her thoughts as much as possible. It was clear from her assessment of Holly trouble was coming; she needed as clear head as possible to allow her to focus on their next course of action.

It didn't take long to make the hot chocolate, adding pumpkin-spiced cream and sprinkled chocolate to the top, and together the three of them sat around the kitchen table quietly as they sipped their drinks. For the moment, none of them wanted to be the first to speak, the first to break the illusion that everything was fine and that their world wasn't possibly going to come crashing down around them. 

"What happened, you look like you have just been in a fight," Hermione said, breaking the silence first.

Holly snorted, "That's because I did."

She threw the witch a look, remaining silent, letting her friend take the time she needed to get the story out. Hermione knew better than to rush or push Holly too far. She had learnt over the years, just how stubborn her friend could be and when it was best to remain silent and patient. 

"Hydra has an army of witches and wizards."

Silence descended on them, none of them daring to breathe too loud. Hermione could hear her heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears the words repeating in her mind.

"I'm sorry, do you mind repeating that, I don't believe I heard you right the first time?" Ron said, horrified.

Holly grimaced but repeated herself. Ron rose from his seat without a word, moving to the kitchen cupboard Hermione knew he stored the Firewhisky. He only ever brought out whenever his brother George was having a bad night or when Holly had come around in the early hours of the morning with dead eyes and deafening silence. Without hesitating, Ron added some to his hot chocolate and Holly's. Hermione shook her head when he offered it to her, swallowing 'it's not even past noon' as she took another look at Holly. 

"I think this story needs more than hot chocolate," he muttered, taking a sip of his drink. 

Holly grimaced but didn't deny his comment and in Hermione's eyes that was all the answer that they needed really. Hermione continued to sip her hot chocolate. Her mind was already spinning over all avenues, leaving no stone unturned, while she waited for Holly to continue. Kingsley would need to be informed, as would the others. They would need to move quickly and swiftly if they were going to stand a chance. A chance of what Hermione couldn't say, but delay, wasn't an option.

"It's been going on longer than we first thought. The children," Holly said her tone void of emotion. Though Hermione knew her better than that, outwardly she gave an appearance that this was nothing more than a report, nothing more than her reporting back to them but inside Hermione knew Holly would be raging. "The ones I fought had to be in their twenties, and they were good, trained, as though they had been training for it their whole lives."

"So it's not just for experimentation purposes. They want weapons. They want soldiers," she mused assessingly. Her fingers tapping against the side of her mug as she frowned at the thought of what that meant. 

"That is what it looks like. I was so focused on the experiment side I didn't stop to think what they were doing with those that survived," Holly countered, her eyes blazing with anger. "In the grand scheme of Hydra's operations, I saw a drop in the ocean, and while I have found out more over the years, I still don't think it is everything."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, "Last night, I mean, you said there was a fight."

Holly glanced at the both of them, taking a sip of her drink before she started talking. Hermione listened, and she knew Ron was as well. She knew Holly would only break it down to the crucial bits, skipping over her injuries, over those she killed, but Hermione could hear it in the unspoken words, in the silences and gaps of the story, as she moved from point to point, what her friend was leaving out. 

"He said, 'the Greater Good will prevail'?" Hermione asked as she spoke she felt a strange lurch of her heart and a coldness sink deep into her soul. 

"Yes," Holly confirmed, understanding shining in her eyes. 

"Merlin!" Ron whispered his eyes widening. It reminded Hermione so much of their time during the war when they would secret themselves away and talk in hushed tones of what they needed to do. None of them said anything the meaning behind the words and what they meant hung on the air between them. 

When they had first discovered that Hydra still existed, both Holly and herself having more understanding what that meant than Ron. The possibility dawned on them that if a muggle terrorist organisation from WW2 had slipped through the nets, then there was a real possibility that Grindelwald's forces had also survived. The two factions had joined forces, Grindelwald having more of an influence than he should have. Hermione would need to look up some old books, the reason why taunting her just out of reach. 

"Surely if Grindelwald's Grim Reapers survived they would have joined Riddle?" Ron asked. 

"Grindelwald believed it was our right to rule the muggles, the reason he was so dangerous is that _he_ appealed to the muggle-borns, to those that weren't accepted so easily by the Wizarding World. Riddle was all about pureblood, and wanting to destroy his muggle heritage," Holly said softly, tiredness evident in her tone. 

"I will have to look through the files, go through the records to see if we can start building a picture of who exactly we will be dealing with," Hermione confirmed, "It will take time, but I should be able to find records."

"That is one step we need to take, but we also need to launch Excalibur," Holly said finally, "And we need to bring the Avengers up to speed about the Wizarding World. If Hydra is using witches and wizards in their arsenal, it changes things. They need to know what they are facing because Hydra is going to target them, and they aren't going to sit back and not fight Hydra."

Hermione blinked in surprise; she hadn't been expecting that. She did not doubt in her mind after listening to Holly's report that they would be launching Excalibur, the Wizarding World as a whole needed to get proactive on their problem as quickly as they could. It meant Kingsley approaching the ICW with everything they had gathered in the last few years. It meant calling on their allies and putting their plans for a worst-case scenario into action. Excalibur hadn't included the Avengers. Hermione could understand the change, could understand the reasoning, but that didn't mean she wasn't wary.

"Are you sure?" she asked, "I can understand the reasoning why. But Tony Stark isn't exactly known for subtlety, he declared on national television he was Iron Man, and that is before you even get into Captain America and the Black Widow revealing SHIELD's and in turn Hydra's secrets to the entire world."

Holly met her gaze with her own, her eyes hardening, "There is no other choice. If Hydra were only experimenting on muggle-borns, then the original plan would work, they would never have needed to know. But Hydra has weaponised the witches and wizards they have taken - it means that _they_ have other witches and wizards working for them, witches and wizards who have _chosen_ to work with them and to train the muggle-borns without caring in the slightest about them." Holly broke off a frown clouded her face, before she continued, "It changes everything. We are going to have to work with them. A team of magic users to counter Hydra's magic users."

"Holly's right," Ron agreed, his face looking hard and shadowed. "We are going to need to work with them Avenger people. Neither of us can win without the other."

Hermione swallowed the nervous dryness from her throat, "I do agree with you. Don't think for a second I don't, I'm just trying to work out how we are going to tackle this problem. Are you going to tell them, or wait for an ICW official?"

"ICW official. It gives them more protection. It will be on file, on record that they know which will tackle the risk of them being Obliviated by anyone looking to make a name for themselves. I want to avoid that if I can."

Hermione nodded, "Leave it with me. I will meet with Kingsley today, and then we can go from there."

"I was half hoping that Hydra had accidentally found out about the Wizarding World, about magic and muggle-borns. That they had found some way to track us, rather than witches and wizards working with them," Holly snorted, "This - this means something else entirely."

Silence filled the kitchen, before Holly pushed herself to her feet, "I need to get back before my absences goes beyond what I can explain."

Hermione rose to her feet so she could walk Holly to the fireplace and the floo network. Taking the precious time, it was just the two of them to study her friend. She could see that something was bothering Holly, something she wasn't voicing, though Hermione wasn't entirely sure what it was.

"What aren't you saying?" she asked quietly, taking a step closer to Holly so not to draw Ron's attention, just in case Holly wanted to discuss something she didn't want Ron to know.

Holly's face crinkled in confusion. 

"You forget Holly; I know when something is bothering you," she stated.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Holly muttered, rubbing at her chest. A tick Holly only tended to do when she was anxious. Hermione frowned. Usually, when she was nervous or was losing herself in old thoughts of darkened times when she had been alone with only herself to depend on when no one else had been there for her when she needed comfort when the only comfort she had was the names on across her heart.

Names across her heart, Hermione froze. She knew those names. Had seen them once and twice in their first year and had made a promise of secrecy, and had helped Holly learn how to charm them invisible. Had allowed her research into their meaning and why Holly was soulmarked. Steven Grant Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes. Her eyes widened as a sharp spark of realisation shot through her. Why hadn't she connected it earlier? She was a muggle-born, her mother had raised her on the stories of the Howling Commandos - stories about her _grandfather_ and yet she had never connected the names. Never considered the possibility that Captain America and Sergeant Barnes were the notable names on Holly's skin. She supposed the presumption that they were dead at least gave her a viable excuse but Captain America had been visible since the Battle of New York. 

"It's them, isn't it?"

Holly's eyes darkened slightly with pain. 

"Do they know?" Hermione queried softly, her heart rate quickening beneath her chest. If they hurt Holly, Avengers or no Avengers, she would make them bleed. 

"They know," Holly admitted reluctantly, "They knew the moment I walked through the doors."

"What happened, Holly?"

"Nothing important. We have more pressing matters to worry about," Holly denied. 

"Holly," Hermione started, pleading with her eyes as she looked at her friend, "It matters, because you are _important_, you matter. This matters."

Holly shook her head, "I'm not a little girl anymore. Whatever the marks meant then, they don't mean it now. I grew up. I learnt the hard way; the universe doesn't give a shit about what you want, it will still find ways to screw you over, because it doesn't owe you a god damn thing. It just gives you false promises."

Hermione swallowed down her rage. If she could, she would hunt down the Dursleys and make them suffer for the damage they inflicted on an innocent child. She would raise Dumbledore from his grave just to kill him again, for giving Holly the impression she was only ever worthy of being sacrificed. 

"I will feed them to Grawp if I have to. You deserved to be loved so much, and if _they_ can't see that then they don't fucking deserve you."

Holly gave a tight smile, "It's not like that, Hermione. They have their issues, their past, and the whole thing it's just one complicated, messy ball. It's two halves that make a whole, not three, and that isn't going to change."

"Three is a magical number Holly, more powerful than two," she said, "a triquetra is known as the trinity knot. It is composed of three interlaced equivalently arcs. All of them are equal in value."

"Triquetra are rare, and usually between magical's Hermione."

"But still valid. Whatever happens, you are more than just a sacrifice. You are loved, by me, by Ron, by Rosie, by Teddy, by the Weasleys, and by everyone whose life you touch," Hermione soothed, "You are a light in this world, that it doesn't deserve. Whatever happens we have your back, now and always."

Hermione stepped closer, wrapping her arms around her friend; Holly paused, like she always did, even now uncertain how to handle affection before sinking into the hug and wrapping her arms around tightly. 

"Don't you dare fucking dare die on me, Holly."

"I can't make that promise, but I will do my best not to," Holly hummed in agreement, before whispering, "I love you, Hermione."

Her chest tightened, Holly didn't often say the words, she was more actions than words, and Hermione knew she still had this fear that if she said the words aloud the person she told them to would die. When she did say them though, it tugged at her heart every damn time. 

"I love you too."

It was Holly that stepped back first, breaking away and moving towards the fireplace. 

"I will be in touch soon, keep you up to date with what is going on."

She nodded her head, "I will let you know as soon as I have spoken to Kingsley and we have arranged a meeting with the ICW. Knowing the amount of red tape, we have to go through your looking at a month at the earliest."

Another tight smile, "I will do my best to keep them alive and away from magic until then."

Hermione watched as Holly grabbed a handful of floo powder, waved her wand over the wards she had put in place and stepped into the fireplace, disappearing in a flash of green flames. 

"Please stay safe," she whispered to an empty room, hating that she couldn't join her friend's side. It was only in a situation like now when she knew Holly was in the thick of danger alone, that Hermione hated that she was stuck behind. She didn't regret her family, her career in the slightest, she loved it with every ounce of her being, but she hated knowing that Holly didn't have anyone to watch her back. 

Turning on her heel, she moved back to the kitchen, "Ron, I need you to send a message to Bill and Charlie, we have work to do."

A determined look crossed her husband's face. Both of them were willing to do everything in their power to ensure Holly's safety and Merlin help anyone who stood in their way.

* * *

Wearily Holly stepped out of the fireplace in Katie's office, her shoulders sagging as her entire body protested loudly at any movement she made. The few hours sleep she had managed to catch in the safety Rosewood Cottage had offered her had did little to replenish her energy, if anything broken sleep made her worse. Everything hurt. A sigh escaped her lips; she didn't have time for any more sleep, at least not yet. Turning on her heels, Holly sealed off the fireplace to prevent any unwanted visitors, while she mentally checked off updating Hermione and Ron, and the activation of Excalibur. On the Wizarding side, everything depended on Hermione and Kingsley notifying the right people of the threat they now faced, while Ron worked through their contacts. It was a network that had taken time to build, consisting of old DA members, those who fought in the Final Battle and others that had come into their orbit that would help should another threat ever rear its head. Holly couldn't do much from her side, at least not in contacting the ICW but that didn't mean she had to sit ideally waiting for the Wizarding World to make contact. 

Pulling out the two wands she had managed to confiscate during the fight, she held them in her hand and studied them. Wandlore was not something she had much knowledge on, but she could tell the differences between them, by the length and the wood used. In theory, she could use them to track down the owners, provided she found the right wandmaker, and for that, she would need Grave's help. It was at least a clue in tracking down the witches and wizards involved with Hydra. It was a start. It was something she could work with, something to move her in the right direction. If she could find them, they could potentially lead her to where the children were.

Stealing herself to get through the next couple of hours before she could finally rest properly, Holly crossed the room and opened the office door, slipping out into the corridor as quietly as she could. Not wanting to alert anyone she was _awake_ and moving around. Opening up about everything, or at least as much as she could tell them was like picking at a wound that hadn't healed properly. It left her feeling tired, drained and more than a little irritable. And it was only the beginning. She would need to work with them on the information she had about the muggle-borns, without actually revealing to the Avengers that they were magical. Perhaps opening that can of worms wasn't her best idea, but she couldn't turn back now. She would just need to do her best and hope that the ICW would authorise the Avengers to know about the Wizarding World sooner rather than later. 

Shoving everything to one side, Holly moved through Sanctuary, taking the third set of stairs that led from the first floor directly to a storeroom, within the Clinic. It was one of the many staff passageways that had allowed the cleaners and housekeepers to move about the hotel freely keeping out the way of the guests, and something Holly had expanded on to her advantage, it meant that she wasn't likely to run into anyone. Holly strengthened her shields hoping she would at least fool Steve and Bucky into thinking she was resting and not awake, avoiding them a straightforward goal, until she worked out what it was she was going to tell them. Personally, Holly was going down the route of actively avoiding until she had no choice but to deal with it. She was good at doing that, avoiding things. 

The Clinic was quiet; those who had needed beds were still there, resting, sleeping and healing. The nurses gave her nods as she passed, checking on each of the patients more for her peace of mind than any other reason. Starks men standing guard and she noted that some police officers had joined their vigilant watching. Holly found Graves sitting by the bed by one of his colleagues. His attention darted her way as she made her way over, and she gave a slight nod indicating they needed to talk.

He pushed himself to his feet following her as she moved to the nurses' station, giving them some privacy which Holly added to by casting the Muffliato Charm, should anyone stray to close. 

"How are your people?" Holly asked gently, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at Graves, her eyes sweeping across him. She could see the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself, all coiled tightly, as though he wanted to lash out and hit something. There was anger seething below the surface, his jaw clenched tightly together, but he was keeping a tight leash on it. But just as much as there was anger, there was something else there as well. His chin lowered to his chest, and his gaze didn't quite meet hers. 

"We lost two," Graves admitted brokenly, the pained glaze in his eyes open for anyone to see. 

"I'm sorry," Holly said, softly, "I know the words aren't enough, can never be enough, but I am truly sorry."

A flash of temper lightened his eyes as his gaze met hers. 

"What exactly did we fucking walk into back there?" Nostrils flaring and more bite to his tone than there had been seconds before.

Holly swallowed the lump in her throat, "A trap. And a complicated mess."

Graves tone hardened, "Explain."

It wasn't a question, it was a demand, and Holly didn't blame in the slightest. She had screwed up mostly by not seeing the true picture of what Hydra was planning. She had been so focused on finding the missing children; she hadn't stopped to think about what Hydra was doing with those that survived the experiments. The fact that she hadn't seen the possibility of them raising an army was on her. Taking a breath, Holly did just that. She explained what she was doing keeping it down to the crucial facts. Missing muggle-borns. Hydra kidnapped them. Experiments. Raised an army. She would be able to give him a better breakdown another time, but for now, she gave him what he needed, what he wanted to make sense of tonight's events, understanding of what he, they had all stumbled into and what they were facing.

"And you are certain he said 'Greater Good will prevail'?" his brow drawn together tightly as he digested what she had told him. 

Holly nodded, "I was afraid that the muggles had found a way to track magic. Their technology is more advanced than the Wizarding World like to believe, men in flying suits just the tip of the iceberg, but tonight shows they are getting help from our side as well."

"Fuck!" he whistled.

"That summons it up perfectly," Holly agreed, pressing her lips together, "I know it's a lot to take in, and I have people reaching out to the ICW now, but this is bigger than what I first thought, and I am not going to be able to face it alone. None of us are."

Graves frowned, "None of us know who is working with Hydra, what the end game is or what is drawing them to the cause."

"Which doesn't help, and leaves us with more problems than solutions," Holly confirmed, tiredly, "At least with Voldemort, you knew what he wanted. Grindelwald, you knew what he wanted. Whoever is working with Hydra is an unknown, we don't know what they want, how many people agree with them or anything."

"What do you need?" Graves asked his eyes alert and shining with a glint of determination, "How can I help?"

"Helping could cost you your job?" Holly cautioned, because if he was going to help, then Graves needed to help with his eyes wide open. She wouldn't lie to him. She might tell him the personal stuff, she might not share every secret with him, but about this, she wouldn't lie, not if he was to become her ally. 

"I know," he admitted, crossing his arms, "My Auror brethren may think working with muggles beneath them, and I can admit this job, this position wasn't exactly what I pictured when I finished my training, but the muggles, the detectives they are my team. They are my people just as much as witches and wizards are. They might not know everything about me, and I might never be able to share the Wizarding World with them, but -"

"They're family," Holly finished, looking at him. She could hear the truth in his words, knew that he meant what he was saying. Knew that he would help fight whatever it was they went up against.

Holly ignored the wiggling slither of doubt that was currently unsettling her stomach and pressed on, "I confiscated two wands, in the fight. I was hoping you would be able to help me track down the maker. If we can get an idea of who they are, we can work out where they hang out and hopefully -" she trailed off with a shrug. 

"You are hoping that they will lead you to the other children."

She nodded, a weary sigh escaping her lips as she rubbed at her left arm, "or an idea of who they are and their goals. They have to have some connection to the Wizarding World. It's a clue, a lead I need to follow and hopefully, it pans out."

Graves nodded, swallowing slowly, "My _Captain_ is calling me in. He wants a report. It will tie me up with that for most of the day, and I need to go and see the family members of," he stopped his voice, catching, and Holly knew who he meant without him voicing it aloud. He was going to see the family of those who had fallen. "See if I can do anything for them. But tomorrow, I will go with you to the two wand makers we have, and we can go from there."

Holly caught the emphasise on Captain, and knew he meant the Captain of the Aurors. 

"Then you best go and report to your Captain. Your men will be fine here, and can stay until they are healed, or need to move elsewhere," Holly said softly, "If anyone asks I will say you are reporting in."

"Most of the guys will be moved or discharged today, which considering the magic you have around this place it's probably best," Graves noted, throwing her a pointed look. 

"It offers Sanctuary to those who need it, regardless of whether they are magical or muggle." Holly shrugged. 

"I can see that," Graves said softly, "I should go."

He started moving, cancelling out her spell as he stepped away from the Nurses station.

"Graves," Holly called; the wizard glanced over his shoulder at her, "Thank you. For helping tonight, you didn't have to. You didn't have to expose yourself like that."

He gave her a tight smile, "Helping people, whether they are magical or not, is one of the reasons I became an Auror."

Holly watched him walk away, making his way towards the back entrance and out into the world outside. Glancing around, she took one last look at the Clinic. The place had received a lot of exposure tonight, and Holly didn't trust everyone involved, but the options hadn't been in their favour, and they hadn't had another choice. But that didn't mean she wouldn't send a message to Andy to strengthen the wards and look to start moving to their second location in the city. Showing caution didn't hurt after all. 

Satisfied everything was secure she moved towards the doors that led to the living area of the building. Schooling her features to hide her tiredness as best she could, she stepped through them, making her way towards the kitchen.

* * *

Steve stared at the dark ceiling above him, taking note of the glittering stars that somebody had captured and painted across the room. They seemed to radiate a warm glow that he could only describe as comforting, beautiful, despite doing nothing to help still his racing mind. His chest tightened with every breath he took, reminding him so much of the days and nights before the serum when it hurt to breathe. When it had gotten so bad as though he was drowning, those nights, those awful nights, Bucky had often stayed by his side, concern burning in his blue eyes as sheer determination settled across his face. As though his will, and will alone kept him alive. The bond that pulsed between then had always been a comfort. Still, those nights they were a lifeline he had kept fighting towards, refusing to give an inch, because if he did, if Steve gave up, he would be losing Bucky, and that had been unacceptable scenario he would never willingly choose. Less difficult times, when things weren't perfect by any means, but they weren't shattered glass with razor-sharp edges that cut to the bone every time he tried to grasp them and piece them back together with blood-soaked hands. Times when he wasn't a hero, when the world didn't depend on him, and when his choices didn't get people killed.

His mind like a carousel, a forever turning carousel, running through the night's events, every mistake he made every miscalculation on his part. What he should have planned different to ensure success, what steps should he have taken instead of those he did. How could he have prevented the deaths tonight? Failure,it was a bitter taste in his mouth. And yet it seemed all he was capable of since waking up from the ice. They may have won the Battle of New York, but the cost to unite them had been Coulson's life. He had worked hard for SHIELD, only to discover Hydra at its very heart and Bucky their prisoner. He had failed Bucky, and there was no way he could ever make up for that failure. Add in with Holly's revelation, her words, her tale and all the unspoken words that hung in the air. It was clear he had failed her as well. 

_"You found out my name and that I was the soulmate to both Captain America and the Winter Soldier and you slapped a contract my way. A tight iron one, would you have believed me if I spoke out then? You looked at me as if I was a villain from the get-go just for existing, what exactly would have made the difference if you found out I had been kept prisoner by Hydra for ten months. Would you have believed me?"_

Steve liked to think he would have believed her, not that he had gone out of his way to make himself approachable in any way, shape or form. He had actively gone out of his way to avoid her those first few days, and then circumstances had resulted in them needing to spend time together. Two weeks wasn't exactly a long time in the grand scheme of things, but it was enough to make him realise he hadn't been fair on Holly, that he hadn't handled the situation in the best way possible. She hadn't trusted them, they were supposed to be the guys' people came to for help, and she hadn't, not that Steve could blame her in the slightest. He hadn't given her reason to trust him. None of them had. 

Except Bucky seemed to at least try. 

_And you didn't._

There was a thickness in his throat and tightening knots in his stomach. Rest was futile, not while he as tightly wired as he was. Running wasn't an option, neither was going a few rounds at the gym, either with Bucky, Thor or a punch bag. Though nine times out of ten Bucky usually avoided sparring with him. It left him limited options, but he knew staring at the ceiling was not helping. He sat up and pushed himself off the bed. He had instructed the others to try and get rest, but it eluded him, he couldn't say whether the others had followed his advice, but from the quivering pulse of the bonds he knew Bucky was equally restless.

Leaving his room, Steve stepped out onto the corridor, hesitating outside the room Bucky had closeted himself inside. A weary sigh escaped his lips as Steve closed his eyes, willing his mind to still. Did he knock, or did he leave Bucky to gather himself? Steve didn't want to push too hard, but at the same time, he didn't want Bucky to feel as though he was alone. He lowered his hand, choosing a retreat for the time being. It didn't sit well with him, but a small part deep inside who was still desperately afraid of rejection didn't want Bucky to do so now. He was a coward there was no other way to look at it, but he would rather deal with a hundred plus enemy soldiers than have Bucky push him away, again.

He moved to the staircase, quietly descending so not to disturb anyone else should they have managed to get some sleep, before making his way back towards the kitchen diner living room. 

The sun was rising, pale pinks and reds peeking through the window and dancing across the kitchen worktops. Bruce was softly snoring in the chair a thick woollen blanket covering most of him. They hadn't wanted to disturb him just to move him elsewhere, not when he had looked comfortable and peaceful enough in the armchair. 

Steve was surprised to find he wasn't the only one awake; Holly was moving about the kitchen, stiffly and a little slower than usual. 

"Do you need a hand?" he asked, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

"I can manage thanks," Holly replied, "Do you want a drink?"

"I don't want to put you out," he muttered.

"You aren't," she said lightly. 

Uncertain what he should be doing, Steve moved to a barstool and sat down. The silence stretched between them as the kettle boiled, and Steve wasn't sure what to say to her. They hadn't had that many conversations before her revelation earlier this morning, but now his words appeared stuck in his throat. Where did he even begin? A voice that sounded too much like Peggy for comfort scolded him for his idiocy.

"Are you okay?" he asked, studying her closely. A mask of reserve seemed to cover her face. Still, Steve couldn't ignore the bruise that was forming across her cheekbone, his eyes dropped to her exposed arm, the tactical suit she had been wearing cutaway, a bandage was wrapped tightly around an arm, and he could see scraps and cuts along her shoulders.

"Nothing more rest won't cure. Though I have to admit, I don't recommend getting hit by one of those weapons," Holly answered her lips twitching in amusement.

"You are lucky to be alive," he pointed out.

She slowly raised an eyebrow at him, green eyes looking almost amused, "Occasionally, my Potter Luck goes my way."

Steve wasn't sure what he could say to that. Not that Holly expected him to, as she busied herself finishing the drinks before passing him his coffee. Steve couldn't keep the surprise from showing that it was just how he liked it. Holly gave him another look as she took a sip of her drink. 

"You haven't gotten any sleep, have you?" Her face creased in concern

"No," he admitted, feeling drained. "I find it hard to sleep in general, but right now, everything is replying over and over again."

Holly tilted her head, her eyes fixed upon him, "That's understandable. You haven't exactly had time to adjust in the grand scheme of things. You woke up from the ice, dealt with an alien invasion. Then you threw yourself into working, into SHIELD, only for SHIELD to have at its core the people you were fighting against seventy years ago. Not to mention Bucky." Holly blinked, as she took another sip of her drink, "Then you have spent the last nine months chasing after Hydra. You need a hobby. One that doesn't involve fighting or saving the world."

Steve gave a tight smile, "I don't think I have the time."

"Soldiers have hobbies, Steve. They have passions and loves just like everyone else, and they also need to recharge. There is time. To carve out a moment for yourself and you shouldn't feel guilty for doing so. The world will still be there if you take time out. And if it needs saving, if it needs Captain America in the time you are being Steve, well I'm sure you will know about it."

She gave a reassuring smile, her gaze softening. 

"And as I said before. Tonight wasn't your fault. Going over it will just drive you crazy. Hydra has allies, allies none of us could have foreseen. All we can do is adapt to the fact, learn from tonight, and be better next time."

Steve got the distinct impression she was peeling away his layers and seeing everything he didn't want the world to see. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, and his words stuck in his throat. Holly seemed to understand him in a way that should have been impossible for someone to do in such a short time unless they _knew_ unless they had experienced what he was going through. 

"It doesn't help the people that died tonight."

"No," Holly sighed, bleakly, "It doesn't, but their deaths aren't your fault. Hydra killed them. Not you Steve, Hydra. All we can do is fight with everything we have to prevent Hydra from winning because that's what they were fighting against as well. Save as many lives as we can, but also understanding we can't save everyone. No matter how much we want to."

Steve looked at her, she was watching him closely, but Steve could see her eyes swimming with her memories, lessons she had learned the hard way. Holly knew the doubt that gnawed at his soul because she knew what it was like to lead people only for them to die and for her to survive. She knew survivors guilt; she lived and breathed it every day. 

"You didn't want to return did you?" he said suddenly, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "When you escaped Hydra, I mean. Even though you had spent ten months as a prisoner you felt guilty that you had survived and your team didn't, so you let the world believe you were dead because you thought you deserved to be."

Her gaze wavered from his, and he could see the shutters slamming down hard and fast in her eyes. Steve knew he had caught her off guard, caught her by surprise.

"It allowed me to move unseen," she countered, her voice held a tremor. 

"True, but you were punishing yourself as well. Cutting yourself off from everything you knew and loved, because you survived and your team didn't."

"Kenneth's wife was seven months pregnant at the time of that mission," she whispered, her eyes misting with tears, "and I got him killed. He never got to meet his son, and his son never got to meet his dad. I didn't deserve to go home."

"Yes, you did," he said softly, "you deserved to go home. You didn't deserve to be held prisoner by Hydra."

She met his eyes, and for a brief moment, Steve saw a flash of pain, of the anguish that bubbled beneath the surface, her walls crumbling ever so slightly. She was a storm of emotions; they pulsed through the bonds until Steve was choking on them as if they were his own. 

Steve moved without thinking to her side, cursing his stupidity of picking at that particular thought, for voicing it aloud in the first place, for pushing to fucking hard. The inner storm that was currently raging through her was down to him. He had put his foot in his mouth. Sam said not to push her, and he had done just that. 

"Would it be okay if I hugged you?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, "I - I." She started before nodding, unable to get the words out. Steve couldn't help but wonder how many times Holly had had a hug, that the idea of someone offering was strange.

Slowly he pulled her into a hug, and she surprisingly let him. Her body stiffened, as though she was uncertain what exactly she was supposed to do, or because it was him that was hugging her, Steve couldn't say. After a moment of awkwardly standing there, she wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her head into his chest and breathed, relaxing into him as she exhaled. She fit snug to his body, her head tucked under his chin, and his arms wrapped around her waist, a sharp reminder that while she had curves and was somebody who worked out and trained, she was petite.

He took a breath, closed his eyes as he inhaled her scent, something sweet and spicy with a hint of something he couldn't quite name but gave him the distinct impression of nectar. He focused on bonds between them, on steadying them, soothing the turmoil that was twisting through them. Sharing his steadfast shields to help calm her, he didn't want her to be in pain, lost in the darkness of her memories not if he could pull her out. Nor did he want to drag Bucky into the tangle and open abyss that all three of them would fall in. As much as the bonds between soulmates could be a good thing, they had their drawbacks. What affected one could easily affect the other. Energy zapped and sparked pulling him down the bonds further than he had expected. It was like nothing Steve had experienced before. Slipping through Holly's shields, he wasn't sure she was even aware that she had opened herself that much. There was the music; the soft sweet melody where everything glistened and glowed and patterns of colours swirled before him. Light and dark swirled together, fire and ice, a giant ball of, Steve wasn't sure what exactly, but it looked like the stars, the cosmos swirling around with hues of purples, blues, reds and blacks. It brushed against him like a whisper, heat and ice trailing across his skin. Goosebumps prickled his arms, and all Steve could do was stare in awe. The turmoil that had been churning had calmed, the raw emotions from Holly soothed to stillness, and he was suddenly aware of the chill in the air as she closed off the bonds, keeping her thoughts and feelings securely behind her mental shields. He wasn't sure what exactly had happened between them, but from his own experience with the bonds and sharing them with Bucky, he had never felt such raw power, energy with them.

Holly pulled out of the hug, her eyes guarded, everything tucked away inside out of anyone's reach. 

"Thank you," Holly said, swallowing nervously, "for the hug."

Steve shook his head, "You don't have to thank me. I'm sorry I pushed a little too hard. Especially after Tony."

"You didn't," she said with a tight smile, "I guess we are alike in the fact we feel responsible for the deaths of those around us."

"I guess we are," he murmured in agreement, his lips twitching ever so slightly, "I will try and work on it if you will."

Her smile changed, not a forced one, but one in agreement, "I can do that."

Steve cleared his throat, shifting on his feet nervously; uncertain what to say next, as it happened Holly saved him from trying to fill the silence. 

"I'm going to grab a shower. I'm sure Katie will be up soon to speak to you about the possibility of transferring the guys to the Tower if that makes you feel more comfortable," she danced on the balls of her feet. "I can't guarantee they will be up for moving, but she can present you with options."

He licked his lips, nodding in agreement, "I need to touch base with Hill. Find out anything we know from the cleanup. We will all have to debrief later."

"Sure," Holly hummed in agreement, before picking up her mug and walking around him. He watched her go, feeling a mix of comfort by their conversation and even more confused than ever. 

He let out a deep sigh, reaching for his comms and asking Jarvis to patch him through the Hill; it was another day's problem. He couldn't lose focus on the fact that Hydra was still out there, with alien tech that they had monopolised and weaponised. They were still after Bucky, and they had Enhanced working with them. Things were getting complicated and as much as it would be easy to lose himself and allow doubt to eat him up. Steve couldn't afford to let that happen. 

"Hill, any news?" He greeted as Hill's voice echoed through his ears.

* * *

Maria ended the call to Steve bleary-eyed and exhausted as she leant back against her car seat. Working with Damage Control was exhausting, Hoag, a formidable woman that attempted to steamroll over anyone who got in her way. Maria could understand the iron will Hoag composed herself with, working in an environment that many considered a 'man's world' was exhausting. She l remembered those early days when Fury had made her Deputy Director of SHIELD when people questioned her orders at every turn simply because she gave them. Maria fought tooth and nail to prove she knew what she was talking about, knew what she was doing. Just because SHIELD had fallen, at least in the public's eye, and most intelligence communities wanted to drop her in a dark hole still, didn't mean she would cower easily. She deflected Hoag's questions about Potter and where the Avengers had disappeared. She had stood her ground when confiscating some of the weapons that Hydra had left behind, and she had walked away with Hoag started getting personal. Using every breathing trick in the book to keep her anger leashed and her composure in place. 

Hoag knew how to push her buttons that was a given. And after having spent the last seven minutes and thirty-three seconds, not that she was counting, communicating with Steve and updating him on everything and vice versa she desperately wanted to retreat to her room in the Tower for some much-needed sleep. Except she had one more thing, she needed to do first. Opening the glovebox, she pulled out a secondary cell she had. Already encrypted with software that would ensure her calls were untraceable, she pressed number 2 on the speed dial and waited for the video call to connect. 

Maria was a practical person. She knew when they were in over their heads, knew when help was needed and wasn't afraid to ask for it. Fury had always taught her that if she didn't have the necessary skill set to do something, then find the person who did and point them in the right direction. Utilise contacts, make allies. The world was a big place, and while showing caution was second nature, Maria knew it took more than one person to keep the world safe. Trusting people didn't come naturally to her, but there were a few she trusted without question.

The call connected, and the familiar smile greeted her warmly. 

"Commander."

She gave a small smile, "Not any more Commander died the day SHIELD fell. You are the Director now, with a better SHIELD. It's good to see you, Phil."

"And you, Maria," Phil chirped, "What can I do for you?"

"The Avengers need your help, Phil. They need SHIELD's help. It's time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously I said I was working on a new Harry Potter/Avenger story. I have the first chapter done on that story, but want to write a couple more before I share it. It is coming along nicely, and I am really excited to be able to share it with you. It will be another female Harry story, but I will be delving into the trope A/B/O - much like the soulmates trope I want to see if I can do something a little different with it, while avoiding some usual things. I know it won't be to everybody's tastes, and I was hesitant to begin with when the idea first started spinning, but it wouldn't go away so I decided to stick with it.


End file.
